The victim and the predator.

The night was cold and lightless. Leaves turned yellow by the autumn covered the moist surface of the asphalt. The ground seemed to swallow even the smallest rays of light cast by the occasionally flickering street lamp.

The expectation in the air manifested into pillars of steam as it met exhalation. Just briefly, the cloud cover revealed a glimpse of pale moonlight, and how the Predator’s eyes reflected it on the alley.

The predator waited. It knew that the Victim would be coming that night. It had happened before, and it would always happen again and again. The Victim gave meaning to the existence of the Predator.

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Photo by Nathaniel Watson on Unsplash

The tester is a witness to the crime. A witness, who is called forth at the beginning of a trial. Not one, whose bloodthirsty ax split the skull of the victim. Not the one, whose finger pressed the trigger. But the one, who came to the scene just after the crime had been committed.

The victim was already stone cold dead when I arrived.

The software was delivered to the examiner’s desk already like it was. A chain of events had already settled inside the software before the start of testing.

All crimes wait for their witness, a storyteller who could let the might of their word tear the veil of assumptions and expectations.

Respectively, all bugs await for their discoverer, because only the discoverer can give meaning to the existence of a bug.

Tester’s job is not to break the software, but the illusion of it.

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