The black lines on the keyboard look alive.
I stared at the time in the lower right corner of the monitor. It was 17:59. I had one minute left to get off work and run away. His fingers were hanging on Ctrl+S, and he was about to save the last piece of code, when his peripheral vision suddenly glanced at the workstation next door - Lao Liu's keyboard was covered with a thin layer of black lines.
I rubbed my eyes.
The black lines are still there, like spider webs and blood vessels, densely entangled in the gaps between the keycaps. Lao Liu was playing games with headphones on. Gunfire flashed on the screen, the keyboard was being slapped, and the black lines trembled slightly as he typed, as if something was waking up.
"What are you watching?" Old Liu took off one of his headphones and turned to look at me.
"How long has it been since you wiped your keyboard?" I tried to make my voice sound normal.
"Cleaning the keyboard?" Old Liu looked down and said, "Isn't the company cleaning lady coming every week?"
After saying that, he turned back to playing the game, completely unaware that his finger was pressing on a mass of flowing black mist.
