That night, I was working late in my office, lit only by the glow of my laptop screen and a small desk lamp. The air was silent… too silent. The clock showed 11:47 p.m., and only the sound of my typing filled the room.
Suddenly, the cursor on the screen started moving on its own. I froze. I tried moving the mouse no response. Then, a sentence appeared on the screen:
“Don’t work here alone…”
My heart pounded. I turned around the chair behind me slowly spun by itself, as if someone had just sat down. A faint smell of damp air mixed with jasmine filled the room.
I stood up and looked at the chair. Empty. But the reflection on my laptop screen showed something else a woman with long hair sitting still, staring at me through the reflection.
The chair slid half a meter, and a whisper brushed against my ear:
“You’re typing at my desk…”
