The Desktop Paper Cutter

One of those desktop paper cutters: a cutting board with grid, and that long-armed knife hinged at the corner. We used this engine of cutting in school, remember?

Well, picture this on a desktop at work. Beside it, a laserjet, postage machine; that kinda arrangement. Someone, after using this, not ever clicks that long cutting blade fully and safely down. I approach it as a booby-trap. Always find the blade edge raised, just up enough that it drops and clicks when I push the handle down, perhaps just an eighth of an inch, just the depth of one fingertip.

Maybe the germ of an office psycho story. The mild smiler, ever put upon. All the work dumped on him, or her. I like writing gal characters. Bespectacled. I like a gal in specs. Bullied, and too meek to ever say "Uhh’n’no, I should really be visiting dear Auntie Meg. She hasn’t long. I’ll do your unnecessary thing…yes, tonight…I’ll come back after Auntie Meg, when there’s only the staring security guy rattling doors."

Maybe dear Auntie Meg, curmudgeon’y, in her hospice bed, yet to the end keeping those snarky orderlies in line, inspires Bespectacled Gal to take a little revenge where she might. Say, an ounce of flesh at a time.

Schooldays revisited. Only nicer clothes. Tho…that’s been done.