48.

After clearing a Minesweeper board, he left his desk to check on the print job. The machine’s little glass screen signaled a paper jam in overblown red warning lights, and he spent minutes of his finite existence forcing his fingers into its plastic crevices like some rock climber scrambling for a hand hold. Back in his office, his chair lay in a pile of mangled carnage, its faux-leather padding gashed and flapping beneath an AC vent. He sighed, knelt at the keyboard, typed DAYS WITHOUT CHAIR EATER ATTACK: 1, then shuffled back down the hallway.

grh

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2 thoughts on “48.

  1. I’ve nominated you for the Sunshine Blogger Award. I hope that’s okay. Sorry if not. Feel free to ignore. It may not be your cup of tea of course. The details are on my blog thingy. Best wishes, Nick

    Liked by 1 person

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