Tusharika Tyagi / Infinitum Editor

I type nearly every day. I guess you could say I somewhat “enjoyed” it. After all, I had gotten pretty good at it. But I’m starting to think that it may love me more than I enjoyed it. I remember the day when it first began — I had typed the word “Loved”. After taking my hands away from the keyboard, the keys began to move on their own, forming the words “Love you” on my screen. I watched, scared, as the keys clicked down one by one, as if moved by some invisible force. Since then, it’s been happening every time I try and work on my computer. Slowly, every sentence I typed would gradually become some form of “I love you” after typing. “The weekend report is…” now “I love you”. “Sales have been going up by…” “I love you I love you”. “I’m writing this email because…” “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou”. Today, I’m going to write something back. I slowly typed “I don’t love you” into the document. There was complete silence for a few moments before the keyboard started clacking wildly, letters popping up on screen. Now my document is full of the words “I hate you” and I can’t delete them. Whoever is inside my keyboard won’t let me. I don’t think they love me anymore. 

This story was originally published in print Volume 23, Issue 8 on Thursday, April 4.