"Good to have you aboard, Jenkins. Now remember, they bring doughnuts to the breakroom at 10, there's alway someone in HR after 2 if you have any issues you need to report and never, never, NEVER touch THAT key.
It's a, uh, special macro that IT has set up. Yes, that's it; it's to be used by IT and management only. Good luck and I'll talk to you, later."
He left. I looked down at the keyboard. I felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. I couldn't seem to help myself. I reached for the keyboard with an outstretched forefinger. Closer, closer—I pressed it. Everything went black around me. I couldn't move. All I could hear was the rush of my own blood in my ears.
I was frozen. An image flickered in front of my eyes— "Are you sure you want to move this file to the Recycle Bin?" The thumbnail was a picture of—me. With all my willpower, I was barely able to reach the N key. Fingers shaking with the struggle against the inertia, I pressed.
Light returned, everything came back. I was unfrozen.
Needless to say, in the years that followed, I always typed carefully.
Written Content G.A.M. cc
Keyboard Blotty
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Shots Of Silver™ 2012