She came in to work today. Monday.
She saw it again. It seemed to follow her everywhere. Lying silently on its side. Hideous little thing. With steel vertebrae. And needle jaws that snapped. It would draw blood when she wasn’t looking. It was the Being from Hell. The Blue Stapler on her desk.
She quietly started her computer. She couldn’t keep her eyes away. She stared at it. It stared right back.
At one point, she saw it move. When her Mother called on her cell phone. It turned. And tuned in, listening to every word. The pair of shiny sharp teeth gleaming in the light with anticipation.
She was fat, her hair too stringy. She couldn’t knit, couldn’t sew, couldn’t cook. Because she was conceived in Sin. Her Mother said so.
Margo went to the ladies room after lunch. Freshened up her make up. She hurried back to her desk.
“What a darned waste of money I say. All that make up? It makes her look even more ugly”, her Mother had said this morning to Mrs. Wheeler.
Copy Boy Henry passed by her desk. “Hello there Marge! Want to meet up for coffee later today?”
Margo knew it was the Sin in her that made a Man talk to her that way. Her Mother said so.
Blue Stapler had found Margo. It was time.
They found her slumped at her desk few hours later. A pool of blood at her feet. A blue stapler was lodged in her wrist. They could count at least 50 to 60 puncture wounds that were clearly visible. The doctors later said there were a lot more. Bleeding had been slow, fatal.
The cops brought Henry in for questioning.
Henry was scared. “All I wanted was to be the first guy that takes her out for coffee. It isn’t every day that a gorgeous blonde walks in and decides to work at a dump like this. It’s freaky man!”
The case was closed. It was apparent this was suicide. The cops ruled out foul play.