The Desk Abides

My husband once lent me his desk chair because mine was giving me a neck-ache.

A few hours after he did that, his standing desk broke. The engine that raises and lowers the desk stopped working, and it froze the desk in the highest position, so he was stuck standing at it.

A few days later, I was in his office and we got to talking about the desk. He said he’d ordered a part for it, but it was a little odd. It was a relatively new desk, and had been pretty expensive, so he was frustrated. He’d done everything he could think of to make it work: pushing the motor buttons, unplugging and re-plugging it, re-setting the motor.

It occurred to me that the desk had broken within hours of the chair leaving the room.

I said: “Do you think it misses the chair?”

He looked at me skeptically, as one should.

I said: “Perhaps we should apologize for taking away its friend and explain that the chair is just in the other room, and it can always come back, if the situation is dire. I’m very sorry, Mr. Desk.”

Then I reached up to touch the motor button, and it worked.

My husband yelped in amazement. I was amazed, too, so I quickly went and brought the chair back.

It is now three years later, and the desk is still working.

Does the desk have an actual consciousness? Was my narrative—the apology to the desk—enough to trigger a telekinetic action on mine or my husband’s part that caused the desk to work again?

If it does have a consciousness, it’s very funny that it got locked in the standing position. It’s like it was saying, if I can’t have my chair, you can’t have one either.