Imps

Imps

Computer's gone wrong again, can't find my keys, the alarm didn't go off, signal failure at Cardiff Central, got every cable but the one you're looking for, the Wacom driver did that thing again, the price is 10p more than the change you have so you have to break a note… like the universe is out to get you.

Maybe it is. Maybe there are things hell-bent on making life just that little bit more difficult. I'm not talking about starting wars or crashing planes or anything serious, just all the stupid things that don't quite matter but do.

Imps. The little bastards.

Yeah, you can't see them, but they're there fucking around with your stuff. Moving the coffee jar so it falls out when you open the cupboard. Giving the milk a nudge as you take it out of the fridge so you catch it on the shelf and drop it and damn it. Teams of the little shits moving the table so you stub your fucking toe on it.

Sure, sure. I'm the clumsy fuck who isn't looking where he's going. I'm the one who didn't put stuff in the cupboard properly. I'm the one who forgot to set his alarm.

Yeah? And the Wacom driver? Hmm?