He felt it light up like one of those gag light bulbs that you get at novelty stores, the ones that run on batteries and glow at the push of a button. A dozen half-finished chores surrounded him… dishwater in the sink, dirty clothes in a pile on the floor, a stack of notes and manuscript in the first phase of organization… all rendered abortive by a stupid piece of paper, designed to wipe the ketchup from a sloppy eater’s face.