Funny, how the hardest decisions in life are often the simplest.  Marriage for instance, that one moment (theoretically) whereby two members of the human race embark on a journey of commitment to the grave; an everlasting dedication to one another, elicited by the first person singular ‘I’ and the transitive verb ‘do’.  Elsewhere, the difference between unfathomable success and untimely tragedy is often dictated by the stroke of a pen:  some sign into stardom, many more into slavery.  Insignificant actions bearing vast consequences - no man is an island, no individual changed the world.  From this perspective, history is a collage of trivial everyday actions that ultimately, in time, reveal the larger picture.

 These were the thoughts swimming through his head as the index finger traced the smooth, round surface of the big red button.  This was it, the epitome of power.  Not ambition or petty domestic control but raw, animalistic dominance.  King of the Jungle: The Big Cheese.  None of this inferior delegation bullshit, no need for “Do you mind” or “Could I perhaps” redundancy.  It was the stuff of cartoons; the slightest pressure and the collage would be shredded, cleansed of encyclopedic imperfection.  A black and white world, childlike and innocent.  The future would reflect in wonder, and in doing so see that one decision.  His decision.

  “We tread on microscopic worlds, unconscious of their existence.  Intricate structures eradicated in an instant” he murmured, “Ours is no different.” He pressed down as if switching on an electric kettle.

Unfortunately the electrical appliance had other ideas. An inanimate vision, contrary to his own.