And somewhere, in the dark heart of its plastic gears, the machine was already planning its next project. It had heard about the color printer in the marketing department. It was lonely. And it was very, very hungry.
The last fold revealed the message. It was written in a font that didn’t exist on any computer Kevin knew—a beautiful, organic calligraphy etched by the pressure of the rollers themselves.
But Kevin started to notice things. Small things.