Ravings of a Textual Deviant

The worst part was, I couldn’t figure out why my experiment kept failing. The last thing I’d do was admit it to my boss, though. I finished changing the battery in the meter, dropped the dead 9-volt into my pants pocket, and went to the status meeting.

My explanation was long-winded, highly-technical, and complete bullshit, but the boss hasn’t put in serious lab time in years, so he just nodded, pretending to understand.

I thought I was home free until I smelled smoke.

The 9-volt wasn’t dead after all. A key had bridged the gap, and my pocket was scorched.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 30th, 2007 at 7:46 pm and is filed under 100 Words. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.