Do your duty.

You sit down at your desk at the end of the day. It’s been a day, as they usually are. You’d like to go home, change into some comfy clothes, and do anything mindless for a while. Unfortunately, you have some grading to do. The quarter grades are right around the corner.

You grade until all the papers are done. Dutiful teacher, you, by the time you are done, there is nobody left in the school. This is the best time, between when all the students and faculty leave and when the night cleaning crews arrive. You stretch, promising yourself an extra drink tonight for all the work you have gotten done.

Your chair, a hand-me-down from the Roosevelt administration, creaks. You don’t think much of it, stretching back further to fix all the kinks. The support on the chair shatters. You fall to the ground, making sure to hit your head off of every shelf on the bookshelf behind your desk on the way down.