The neon windows closed in on me like hungry beasts.
"Claim your prize!" one roared.
"Meet singles tonight!" another shrieked.
A particularly shady one whispered, "Your PC is infected… click here to cleanse your soul."
"Back off!" I shouted, swinging my glowing body like a sword. It was useless. I was just an arrow, a fragile little triangle, completely at the mercy of the unseen hand above.
And the hand… oh no.
It was guiding me deeper.
Click.
Another ad opened. This one spawned three more. Then those spawned five more. Suddenly the entire screen was overflowing with windows, blinking and flashing like an unholy carnival.
"Why?! Why would anyone click this garbage?!" I cried, my voice drowned out by the jingles of fake lottery wins and robotic voices telling me my computer was in danger.
For a second, I thought I was done for. My life as a cursor was about to end in a pile of malware. But then—salvation.
Click.
The hand moved me to the tiny X button at the corner of a pop-up. I smashed into it and the ad vanished. Then another. And another.
It was glorious. Like slaying monsters in battle, one click at a time.
"Ha! Yes! That's right! You want a hero? You've got one!" I cackled, diving into the swarm, closing windows left and right. "I am Cursor, slayer of pop-ups!"
I was laughing like a maniac, and for a brief moment, I felt proud. Maybe this life wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I really could become something more than a blinking pointer.
But then the hand stopped.
I froze mid-air, halfway through closing another window. Slowly, I was dragged down. Past the browser. Past the taskbar.
My entire body went cold.
The human was opening…Microsoft Word.
"No," I whispered. "Not this. Anything but this."
The blank white page stretched endlessly before me, a barren wasteland of eternal suffering. The hand clicked once more and suddenly—
I was blinking again.
Blink.
Blink.
The dreaded typing life had begun.