[ WP ] One normal day you see a mouse pointer move across your field of vision , right click , and delete an object .

“ Well, that ’ s unusual, ” Mr. Grone said in somewhat of an understatement. He looked at the spot where the distasteful broken trashcan had been just a moment before. He could still see the hole in the ground where the metal pole had been sticking out, but then suddenly another strange pointer approached, he heard an odd scratching sound, and the pavement smoothed out leaving no track of the previous disturbance. 
 
 He shook his head to clear it and looked around, wanting to ask if anyone else had seen this rather strange event. The utter normality of everyone passing by made him stop and close his open mouth. No need to pull attention to himself. If anyone else had seen it they ’ d look just like him, just as confused, staring at the ground, at the sky, trying to figure out what was going on. 
 
 He concluded, quite simply, that he must be going mad. This wasn ’ t such a strange conclusion given what he had just seen, or given his life in general. He hadn ’ t been doing very well after all, far too much stress as work and all that. Conflicts at home. He was pretty sure his wife was cheating on him, possibly with a close family friend. 
 
 Insanity is a pretty sane reaction to an insane situation, after all. 
 
 He looked at his watch and realized he was going to be late to work. Briefly he wondered if this mattered. If he had indeed gone insane, wouldn ’ t it be better to go to the hospital? Some sort of psychiatric care facility? Who knew what else he would see. Maybe he ’ d become a danger if he saw something scary enough! 
 
 He did however quickly realize that the scariest thing for him to see right now was the face of his manager if he was late again, so with a last glance to the absence of a hole in the ground where one had been just moments before he hurried his steps. If he hurried enough, he thought. Head down, walk on, stiff upper lip and all that! 
 
 Frothing around the mouth would have seemed appropriate for the mood his manager was in when Mr. Grone stepped out of the elevator three minutes and forty-five seconds late. Mr. Grone sighed to himself and walked towards his cubicle, hoping that the manager wouldn ’ t follow. But of course he did. Of course it was only moments before Mr. Grone saw the shadow over him as he put his briefcase away and got ready for his day. 
 
 “ You ’ re late, ” grunted the disgrace of a man who really shouldn ’ t have been given power over anything more advanced than an ant-farm, if even that. Mr. Grone sighed and looked over at his superior while waiting for the decade old computer to realize the power button had been pressed. Normally this was the time to go get some coffee, but alas, here he was having another of those stimulating morning conversations that happened far too often. 
 
 “ I ’ m so sorry Sir, won ’ t happen again, ” he said, lying through his teeth. Of course it would happen again at some point, it was impossible to go through life and never be late. Despite this Mr. Grone was exceptionally good at being on time, typically. This was only the second time since he started at the company eight years ago that he had been late, but all the same the manager and the manager before him and the manager before him had all found various excuses to pick on him. To deny him promotions. To keep him from getting a raise. 
 
 “ Damn right it won ’ t happen again, ” said the human-looking orangutang with a sudden smirk. “ We ’ re doing some cutbacks and this is excuse enough, as soon as I get back to my office I ’ m putting you on the list. You ’ re out of here before the month is over. ” 
 
 Mr. Grone gaped. This was unexpected, and horrendously bad timing. He might lose his home if he didn ’ t get that bonus check next month. He was just about to complain when he realized it was all going to be okay and broke out in a grin. This confused the distasteful pile of garbage before him briefly, before the strange pointer reached him, the clicking sound was heard, and he winked out of existence. 
 
 Discretely Mr. Grone looked around, seeing if anyone had noticed the disappearance of his manager. As before, everyone seemed entirely oblivious. He turned around and saw that his computer had booted up, the video editing software filling up the screen. He pondered for just a moment before standing up, and hummed a little tune as he made his way to the staff kitchen for some morning coffee. 
 
 Maybe he would have an extra sugar cube in his coffee today. He was going insane after all. 
 
 He was sure of it. 
 

