Another routine day of drudgery in the office. You've tried to appear busy all morning, shuffling papers, getting coffee, all the time postponing the infinitely unappealing task of tackling your inbox. If only you had something else to focus on, something to look forward to tonight. But you haven't seen the gang in ages. And your last date was, well, longer ago than you'd care to admit. Making a paper clip chain, you wonder where your life got derailed.
Weary, you rest your arms on your desk and your head on your arms. A firm hand is suddenly on your shoulder. You look up, expecting to be chewed out by the boss, but instead see... your twelfth grade Math teacher? Is it possible you've gone crazy? Or can it really be... History Repeating.
13th place (out of 36) in the 11th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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