The Breeze Will Blow Us All Away

Sandra sat at her desk and let her eyes travel along the rivers of woodgrain. It was a monday version of her desk — immaculate. Rested. Refreshed. Se walked her fingers to her keyboard. One. Two. Three steps. Four. Five steps. Unusual, she thought to herself. There are normally 4 finger steps to my keyboard when my elbow is planted at the cliff's edge of the desk. She nudged her mouse and the monitor lit up, hazy at first, and focused itself. She pushed her chair back and it's backrest squeaked. There were 3 people in the workspace with her, all hidden behind their cubicle walls, hunched over their smart phones. "Has anyone been at my desk? My computer is still on, and my keyboard has been moved by an inch," she asked. Her co-workers look up wearily. Groggy meerkats. Dan — who she had known for weeks had harbored a light, blushing crush on her, but who was a tad too overweight for her tastes — answered "It was my intention that by doing that, things would go a bit differently for you today. There is nothing wrong with having a ritual. But some deviation would be nice. A different starting point. Or a new fissure to flow along. And then maybe, just maybe, you'd finally agree to have lunch with me." Sandra narrowed her eyes at him. Maybe he was right. "Fine" she said. But first…" She took her keyboard and threw it against the wall. She picked up her monitor and threw it to the floor. "You have to realize that everything was in its place for a reason. And now that this small thing has changed, a small butterfly effect, is now in effect." With that, she quietly and slowly trashed the entire office, overturning desks and tables, knocking over file cabinets and shelves. "There," she said. "That's better. Now that we got that out of the way... are you still hungry?" Outside, the wind was pressing on.