The day was cold and dreary. A gentle but bone chilling breeze was blowing as I slouched my way to work. As I stepped into the lift Amy, one of my co-workers, called, “Nice chair”, to me as she walked past. Odd, I thought. I’d never had reason to believe Amy was slightly unhinged before. Maybe she’d had a meltdown over the weekend. A stranger in what looked like a cleaner’s uniform was next to me in the lift. He smelt like a hospital. Mixed with cigarettes and sweat. The lift stopped at the third floor. Just before he exited he leaned over till his lips were almost touching my skin and whispered in my ear, “I heard about the chair.” Seductively, like he’d said “I want to make love to you.” What the hell? I get to my office and the first thing I see is the space where my chair used to be. I knew I should have stayed in bed. I’m still standing there when my boss walks in and tries to kill me. With a very large knife. I want to run but I can’t move. I stand there stupidly with my mouth open.