[ WP ] A woman accidentally discovers that anything she does to a photograph of a person happens to that person in real life exactly 74 minutes later

[ *I noticed after writing that I had effectively ignored the 74-minute restriction, my apologies* ] 
 
 
 Helen stifled another yawn. Mr. Crawford had droned on about sales figures and projections for close to an hour now, and the unfortunate employees woefully regretting their collective existence this afternoon slumped in their conference room chairs under the combined effects of gravity and the soporific quality of their employer's voice. 
 
 `` And so if you would direct your attention to the chart on page seventeen of my presentation, you will find rather interesting analysis that supports my quarterly revenue growth rate projection of nought-point-three-five percent...'' 
 
 Helen doodled on the cover sheet of the presentation in a desperate attempt to stay awake. She found that defacing the smarmy likeness of Mr. Crawford located right next to the `` Leland Crawford & Associates'' logo ( a photograph whose facial expression contrived to say: `` Trust us with your personal and small business tax planning decisions'' ) felt like a small yet righteous act of anarchy perpetrated against her employer's suffocating sense of propriety and self-satisfaction. She smiled to herself as she put the finishing touches on a handlebar mustache and blackened two of the portrait's orthodontically-perfect incisors. 
 
 Mr. Crawford's closing remarks were accompanied by an almost palpable sense of relief radiating from the long-suffering souls in the room. In the restrained stampede of bodies converging on the conference room door, Helen found herself rubbing shoulders with the boss himself. `` Please see me in my office in ten minutes, Ms. Weatherby.'' he harumphed. 
 
 `` Yes, sir.'' Helen replied. She returned to her desk and spent the next few minutes idly browsing her facebook newsfeed. She came across a photograph of her sister on vacation in Italy, pictured at the Leaning Tower of Pisa in the classic `` take the picture just right and make it look like my outstretched arm is preventing the tower's imminent collapse'' pose. No doubt Jenine and her husband Tom thought it hilariously original. Helen quickly photoshopped her sister into a circus scene she found online, to make it look as if Jenine was part of a balancing act holding up a long pole on top of which a performer pirouetted. She posted her creation as a response to Jenine's original picture before getting up and walking over to Mr. Crawford's office. 
 
 `` Yes, come in,'' Mr. Crawford responded to her hesitant knocking, and looked up from his paperwork as Helen entered the office. She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening and a giggle rising uncontrollably to her lips. 
 
 `` Is something amusing you, Ms. Weatherby?'' demanded Mr. Crawford. 
 
 `` N-no sir. Well, sir, it's just... are you going to a costume party sir?'' she sputtered, unable to take her eyes off the majestic handlebar mustache that now straddled her employer's upper lip. 
 
 `` Eh? What what? Costume party? Ms. Weatherby, I shall not tolerate frivolous or jocular behavior in this office. As a matter of fact, I was intending to address your conduct at our quarterly meeting this morning-'' 
 
 `` But sir, you're wearing a mustache.'' 
 
 `` Nonsense! Please Ms. Weatherby, I really am in no mood for youthful trickery this afternoon. Indubitably the proximity of the weekend has caused you to abandon the appropriate sense of propriety-'' Mr. Crawford stopped mid-sentence as his hand had absentmindedly wandered up his face in a subconscious response to Helen's outrageous claims. His eyes widened in astonishment. `` What in the blue blazes?? Here, what is the meaning of this!'' 
 
 Helen watched in amusement as Mr. Crawford stumbled backwards out of his chair, knocking it over in the process, and made haste for his private en suite bathroom. He neglected to close the door behind him, which he must have instantly regretted as the following high-pitched scream must surely have been audible to the majority of his employees. `` It's real!'' he exclaimed from within. `` And - wait just a minute - I've lost two of my teeth, by Jove!'' 
 
 Not waiting for a response from Helen, he rushed out of the bathroom and made for the door to his office, grabbing his coat and hat from the rack by the entrance and donning them, pulling his collarup and hat brim down in an attempt to hide his newly sprouted facial adornment. `` Ms. Farnsworth! Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day!'' he barked at his secretary on his way out of the office. 
 
 Still shaking from laughter at seeing her usually officious and unflappable boss in such an embarrassing position, Helen returned to her desk. After she fielded a barrage of questions from curious colleagues, she glanced at her mobile phone and noticed several missed calls from her sister. Wondering why Jenine had called her while on vacation, she picked up the phone and dialled the combination to retrieve voicemail. 
 
 `` Helen! It's Jenine! Helen, oh my god, I am freaking out! Something crazy just happened. Tom and I were in Italy and - oh it just does n't make any sense!! It's like one moment we were at the Leaning Tower and the next I'm in the middle of an arena with a crowd cheering all around me, and I look up and I'm holding this thing - this pole - and there's a guy on it - oh my god Helen I freaked out and dropped the thing - I-I just do n't know what to do!! I tried calling mum and dad, they wo n't answer either! Helen call me back please!'' 
 
 Listening to her sister's distressed ramblings, Helen's heart rate quickened as her mind began to subconsciously piece together the day's events. The doodling on the photograph of Mr. Crawford, her editing of Jenine's holiday picture... `` It ca n't be,'' she thought to herself. `` I-I ca n't be *making* these things happen, can I?'' Her thoughts raced as she tried to remember the last thing she had done to a picture of somebody. `` Oh my god. The newspaper. This morning while I was on the phone with customer service.'' She quickly opened a web browser on her computer and directed it to a news site, almost unable to type the address with hands now shaking uncontrollably with dreading anticipation. She froze as the headlines scrolled across the page in large, glaring font: 
 
 `` Peace talks break down as President inexplicably makes rude gesture at visiting dignitaries while laughing maniacally'' 
 
 `` Hollywood starlet sprouts devil horns during Oscar acceptance speech. Doctors befuddled.'' 
 
 There were more, but Helen had fainted. 
 
 
 

