Nonetheless, James had never realized how little he actually affected his world. His tardiness, along with his workplace’s reaction, or lack thereof, provided the push he needed to abandon his wallflower ways and become a true extrovert. He could do it. He would do it. Tomorrow. Just as the DACS was not the kind of person to be late, he was not the kind of person to rush into something without a plan.

        So, James contented himself with admirably performing his quite useless duty, for today, or at least until five o'clock. Then it would be time to think of the perfect plan to be noticed, to be integrated into the workforce and into the community.

        The clock was designed to look like the face of a German Shepherd dog. It had large brown eyes, and a tongue that protruded to mark every hour. The clock face was positioned directly in the middle of the German Shepherd’s face, between the pointed ears and the narrow snout. The clock was directly above James’s computer, so the German Shepherd was always watching him. He love that clock dearly, but for some reason its hands were moving extraordinarily slowly across the face. It seemed as if it took the hands an impossible eternity to crawl from ten o’clock to twelve, from twelve o’clock to three o’clock, and from three o’clock to four fifty-nine. There. It struck five and the German Shepherd’s tongue lolled out and back again. James could go home. He was free to make his plan.