“A smell of burned hair and cotton wafted into the air as I spun toward my desk. There was a low whine from the desk and then smoke billowed out of my closed laptop.I gaped.My precious, perfectly brand new laptop I cherished like one would a small child.Son of a mother…Friend or not, it was so on”

“I would go into my classroom and find my seat, and then my mom would take a picture of me at my new desk!”

“Despite my ghoulish reputation, I really have the heart of a small boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk.”

“I was having the surreal experience of having myself show myself around my office and bullpen.” “Oh! My desk. I could’ve sat at my desk. I could’ve sat at your desk.” “No.” “It’s a vid set.” “Even then, no.”

“My earliest memories of my father are of seeing him work at his desk and realizing that he was happy. I did not know it then, but that was one of the most precious gifts a father can give his child.”

“If only he would keep his mouth shut, he'd be perfect. A piece of duct tape would do the trick. I had some in my desk that I'd occasionally pull out and fondle, hoping someday I could put it to good use.”