Why Can'T I Save And Quit Vim After Editing A File?

I had been managing the company’s warehouse software for five years. Then the new manager came to me out of the blue, saying I didn’t understand frontline operations and that I was being fired. Looking at the five-thousand-dollar severance, I just nodded. “Fine.” He patted my shoulder after seeing me so compliant and started lecturing. “Young people should be out on the line, moving boxes! What’s the use of sitting in the office staring at data every day? “We’re a logistics company. Strength is what matters, not a tech geek like you!” I glanced at the high-end gaming computer in his office and obediently replied, “Yes, Mr. Fuller. Lesson received.” Maybe I had been too comfortable these past few years, and he thought I was dispensable. So, I handed over my ID badge and casually deleted all my personal login keys from my computer. Little did he know that the entire warehouse logistics, inventory management, and route planning software had been coded by me. I had let the company use it for free simply because the place was close to home and the work was easy. Now that I was gone, the system running on my personal cloud server was naturally inaccessible. Tens of thousands of items in the warehouse ground to a halt. As for any commercial software that could replace my system, a year’s subscription would cost exactly one thousand times my severance.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

I've sculpted a character based on my boss, Jacob Carter, in my smutty novel. Jacob, who's a cold, distant, and stern man in reality, is reduced to a lovesick simp in my novel. Apparently, he's maddeningly in love with me there. But when I tender my resignation letter later on, Jacob rips it into shreds before cornering me. "Oh? Are you planning to leave now that you've finished writing that novel of yours? How dare you discard me as soon as you're done with me! What am I, a cheap escort?"

My dad always calls me a lazy bum. It is because I often fall asleep without warning. I sleep in class, while eating, and even while crossing the street. My homeroom teacher, Yvonne Smith, suggests that he take me to a hospital for an examination. But Dad scoffs and says, "He's just staying up all night playing on his phone." After that, he confiscates my phone and removes the lock from my bedroom door. Every time I get sleepy, he slaps me. I don't want to be hit, and I don't want to make Dad angry. So, I start pinching my thighs, pulling out my hair, and even rubbing hand sanitizer spray under my nose to stay awake. But whenever the overwhelming drowsiness hits, nothing can stop it. On the day of the final exams, Dad happens to be one of the invigilators. I bite my lip until it bleeds and silently beg myself inwardly, "Just this once, please stay awake." Still, I fail to fight off the sleepiness. Suddenly, someone flips over my desk. The chair tips with it, and I crash to the floor. My temple slams into the corner of the desk, and darkness instantly floods my vision. Dad stands over me, furious and disappointed. "Zach Davies, are you really so obsessed with sleeping that you don't even care about your final exams? If you're that lazy, then stay down there and keep sleeping!" I lie sprawled across my exam paper as my vision slowly fades away. Dad, I think I am going to sleep for a very long time…

He didn't expect to see her again, an encounter that ignited his love and desires for her; She didn't expect to meet him sooner —an encounter that ignited her hunger for revenge and a twisted desire. ****** He pushed me against the wall, "End the contract with my boss! You are playing with fire Victoria!" He roars. I remain unfazed; this is just the tip of the iceberg, and there is more to come. How I wish he could read the handwriting on the wall, he should be more scared of me, not his boss. "Dear ex-husband, are you jealous that I'm with your boss or is it something else?" I challenge him, a mysterious smile playing on the tip of my lips. His eyes blaze with fury, swiftly pinning me against the wall, his breath fanning my ear, sending shockwaves of pleasure despite the situation. "You know nothing; if you are aiming for revenge, then do it openly!" My gaze meets his, "You don't know what is coming for you, Brad; it is far more than you can fathom."I gave him a sinister smile which made him go crazy. "Fine, I admit I was wrong; I shouldn't have done that to you; I shouldn't have abandoned our love and made you sign those papers, but I did that for you!" Came his outburst. "I...I did that to protect you... because I love you... because I don't want to lose you." He cupped my face tenderly, his hands shaking against my skin; I stood still, dumbfounded. "protection from what?" I choked at my question because I knew whatever the reason may be, it might already be too late. This has gone beyond love—the thirst for revenge and duty is at stake now. Will love be given a chance again?

Keaton Rourke and I get in a car accident. My liver ruptures, and I'm drenched in my blood. Teresa Bellamy, my wife, leaves me to die and runs off to save Keaton, who only has a scratch on his forehead. I'm unconscious and clinging to life in the emergency room, but Teresa fusses over how to keep Keaton's forehead from getting a scar. I wake up feeling nothing but disappointment and toss the divorce papers right in her face. She rips the divorce papers to pieces like a lunatic and makes it clear that divorce will only happen over her dead body. I used to bend over backward to make her happy. Now I'm ready to divorce her, no matter what it takes.