TOUCH THE EVIDENCE
Nothing happened. That is exactly what it wants you to think.
Obituary: The Last Good Office Pen
It wrote on the first try. Its replacements have refused to cooperate.
PRESS FOR REASSURANCE
Too late. You are already reading Broken Zine.
The Last Good Office Pen, black ink, smooth barrel, and uncertain manufacturer, disappeared Tuesday from the communal cup beside the copier. It was approximately six months old.
It is survived by three dried-out highlighters, a promotional pencil from a bank that no longer exists, and a cap whose owner remains unknown.
The pen wrote shopping lists, resignation drafts, one love note, and the sentence “PLEASE STOP MOVING MY MUG” on a piece of tape. It never skipped. It never scratched. It never required you to scribble a furious spiral in the margin to wake it.
VISIT THE SMALL MEMORIAL
LEAVE A PAPER FLOWER
The office has received your tribute. Someone immediately borrowed the flower and forgot to return it.
No service is planned. In lieu of flowers, please return any pens you find in your pocket.
If you have the pen, we know.
VIC SLOANE
Vic Sloane writes small elegies for objects, habits, eras, and other things that disappeared without issuing a press release.
Push something. The magazine is poorly supervised.
PUSH THE WEIRD BUTTON
A small bureaucrat somewhere just stamped APPROVED FOR NONSENSE.