At work, Anthony took off his coat and hung it on the rack behind his desk. His secretary was just walking over with his messages when she stopped halfway, her mouth hanging open.

“What’s up, Midge? Did my mother call again to remind me the Star Trek convention is in town?”

“Look…” The messages fluttered out of her shaking hands as she pointed to something on Anthony’s desk. There was a pen floating in midair with no help from wires or anything else.

In the instant that Anthony turned to face his desk, the pen clattered to the desk and rolled off the edge, coming to a stop under his chair. He picked it up and turned back to face Midge, his eyebrows raised when he saw her face turning a decidedly unhealthy shade of puce.

“Oh,” she murmured, swaying from left to right. Anthony quickly put down the pen and moved to steady Midge with a firm hand under her elbow.

“Why don’t you take the day off, Midge,” he suggested and she gratefully acquiesced, hurrying away as fast as her squat legs could carry her.