The pen bounced across the floor, coming to rest next to the startled dog who looked anxiously at his master slumped precariously over the desk. The pad, laden with a final writing, lay beneath the still figure, its words offering a cold reflection into the mind of a tortured soul. The room held an eerie silence as I slowly pushed open the heavy oak door, it groaned under its own weight as if in pain. A small dog sat nervously beside the figure draped over the desk, it remained cautious and made not a sound as I approached, sadness lacing its eyes as it carefully watched my every move. It offered no sign of aggression as I gently pulled the pad from beneath the victim and walked to the open window, the bright morning sunlight affording me an opportunity to view the message. As I carefully read its content, the situation slowly came into focus, I had seen it before, it was sadly becoming a common occurrence. It simply read..."Please do not wake me. I was up all night on Facebook...PS, walk the dog"!
