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by Stumpy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Business · #1805718
Written some time ago as an exercise. The only 'E' you will find in it is the rating.
An Ordinary Day.

I'm an airport custodian, or janitor if you will. My day consists of mopping and vacuuming, fixing and painting, talking to folks and making things run as smoothly as I can. This story starts on an ordinary day.

That morning as I wrung my mop out into a shockingly bright pail (it's so folks don't trip on it, I'm told), I saw an unusual thing hanging from its strands. Now I'm not all that smart, but I do know what a digital flash card is. That's what was hanging from my mop. It was plastic with brassy contacts, as is usual for such things. I put it in my pouch and got stuck back into my rounds.

All morning I didn't think much about what I had found, but at lunch I found it again in my pouch. I thought about handing it in to Lost and Found, but my community spirit was no match for my curiosity. This airport has many high flying company bigwigs passing through. It's not hard to work out that what was on this card might hold significant worth.

I sought out a bookish airport shop assistant who habitually brought his laptop to work. I told him it was vital that I contact my cousin right away on hotmail, but I didn't know how. I do know what hotmail is, but I said I didn't to gain his aid. My dorky pal was so happy to show off his skills that soon I was sitting in front of his toy, WiFi hooking us into a world of possibility. Having quickly taught basic hotmailing, my tutor shot off to find a stiff drink, trusting yours truly to guard his 'baby' for half an hour.

I found a slot that fit my flash card just right. A click or two brought up windows full of charts and maps, and rows and columns of facts about stocks and bonds. I don't know what most of it was, but it was obviously worth a bit to anybody who did know what story it all told. A quick hunt soon dug out company contact information from a data bank about sports, I think. It said a bunch of stuff about opposition and tactics anyway, from what I could grasp. That's sports talk, right? I took my tiny hoard of bits from its slot just as my bookish pal burst back in. I bought him lunch by way of thanks and got back to work.

Making contact with that company about my find was fairly straightforward; it's a big brand. I was hoping for a small bonus for bringing it back, but it didn't work out that way. I took it in and folks got in a right uproar. I don't rightly know why, but now I can afford a laptop and flash cards of my own, and a flash car too. My flat has DVD with surround sound and a TV that's almost too big to watch. I got a "gratuity" of half a million dollars from that company on condition I didn't say anything about what I had found.

Folks say that company was a bit shaky at that point. Now it's rapidly improving its position and is dominant in many of its products. Occasionally I ask nobody in particular, "just what was on that card anyway?"
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