Alice took a pile of papers to the copier and started making copies. She whispered a prayer her mother taught her. She hoped she got the words right and hasn't offended the powers.

Nope, the data from W through Z, her responsibility, was still nowhere to be found.

She went to the ladies room and sat on the pot for ten minutes. She washed her hands, primped her hair, searched her face in the mirror for blackheads, tucked in her blouse, straightened her skirt and went back to her desk.

The data was still lost, but she had picked up a foul-looking smear on the back of her skirt that everyone but Alice noticed.