The computer screen gazed blankly at me and I mirrored it. The screensaver, darkness. A chance to examine myself.

“Go on then,”

I say to the void siting behind curved glass.

“Why don’t you write for me,”

I joked to myself, kicking my feet up onto another chair. I grab the bag of walkers crisps I left in a draw underneath the desk, the corner of my eye spotting something peculiar. A strange shade of orange appeared. Almost pastel. I opened my roast chicken flavoured crisps and spun my head back to the screen. It was orange. I clicked the mouse, nothing. No commands on the keyboard seemed to make it respond. Usually I’d be upset about my computer crashing during my writing but, I had no focus and no content. So it was okay. I think.

I reach for the plugs socket and turn the plug off, orange, then back on, still orange, then off, orange. I couldn’t believe it, I sat in shock with crossed arms. What the hell could it be?

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