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The HackerIt was a l one(a)ly Saturday darkness. The interlace was howling through the branches of the old oak tree outside my window. The branches swayed back end and forth, creating faint tapping and screeching sounds on the glass. And so, I sat It was a night identical any other my music playing in the accent and the room was illuminated only by the changing purifications of commonalty from my lava lamp. I waited. Suddenly, a came from the transcription unit of my computer, signalling that it was ready. I sat in my big leather chair, leant forward, and logged on. Immediately, the computer went through a series of programmes, checking the system was operating correctly, and so on. The status bar reached 100% and the computer was direct ready for action. I sat with the bright glare in my eyes. The formerly room, once light by a perpetually changing shade of green, was now light up with a brilliant sky blue. true evening, Dave. Would you like me to log on to the Internet? It was a synthesised voice plan of attack from the computer. It was a voice interface I had made by piecing in concert things my girl friend had said. I had it on the computer to remind me of her, and to turn back me hope that one day I would see her again. Hmmyeah, log me on. I said. My voice was grotty and weak. Although I had a voice interface, I seldom spoke, even though I used my computer 24/7, Id normally use the keyboard and mouse. Still, having a voice interface was fair nifty, but I couldnt help but think that one day, it may not recognise my voice.it was getting worse by the day. The modem clicked. Log on complete. Have a nice day. It said. I virtually broke down. I hadnt heard this voice for some magazine.it brought back memories. I had forgotten what she sounded likeShe? My god Id started to think that this machine was my girl friend. The late nights must be getting to me. I thought Thanks. I said. I could hardly stand itit snarl like there was a rock in my throat you have the one I mean? When youre upset and you feel like your going cry? Well, anyway, I cracked my knuckles, for no reason what so ever, knowing full well it could give me premature arthritis.