| I remember that chilly February day she came to live with us. Her luggage, gleaming and white, had her name and logo emblazoned on each piece. The last part of her name was smudged, but it looked like “Marlene.” |
| Marlene was sleek, blonde, smaller than I expected. She was quite young and her face rather squarish. |
| He showed the way to his study which was to become her room. He helped her unpack and made sure she was comfortable. |
| She became the apple of his eye; they seemed inseparable. I see him gaze at her with eyes shining in admiration. An intellectual, he loves her keen quick mind. They write together, draw together, compute together, think as one. |
| She listens to him intently, and never talks back. Sometimes she loves what he tells her so much that she puts his words in print for him to read. She keeps all of his thoughts in her diary, a memory of their precious times together. |
| Oddly, she has a pet that he has learned to love, a rodent that scurries about at his command. |
| He brings Marlene gifts, soft things she can wear. He bought a fancy velvet chair so he could sit closer to her. My desk became hers and my new shiny gold lamp was placed near her so he could see her better. |
| At last he taught her to speak. Excited and elated he called me into their room as these words fell from her lips: |
| Hello Linda, I love you very much! |
| To my surprise Marlene’s voice was deep and masculine! Marlene! Could I have been mistaken? The voice sounded more like Marvin or Marlon! |
| His name is “Mac,” smiled my husband. |
| I gasped, “Mac! Take me! I’m yours!” |
| Postscript: This true story is dedicated to the spouses of computer lovers everywhere. |