Stomach growls loud. When last eat? Can't remember.

  Head pounds. Eyes burn. Hands shake.

  Bob brings coffee. Puts on desk. Looks concerned.

  "Eat something," he says. "Look terrible."

  Nod. Don't drink coffee. Keep typing.

  Stomach twisted into knots now.

  Pain signals everywhere. Body protesting loudly.

  Lips cracked and bleeding. Taste copper.

  Clothes smell bad. Same shirt days.

  Maybe weeks. Time lost meaning.

  Bob's face shows real worry.

  Not usual boredom. Actual concern.

  Coffee steam rises. Smells good.

  But drinking means stopping. Stopping means failure.

  Body just machine now. Machine needing fuel.

  But screen more important than fuel.

  Screen hungry too. Needs my attention.

  Needs my clicks. My endless fixes.

  Bob stands there. Waiting for response.

  "When last eat actual meal?"

  Shrug shoulders. Don't remember meals.

  "Tuesday maybe." Today is Friday.

  Or maybe Monday again. Lost track.

  Bob sighs heavily. Shakes head slowly.

  "Killing yourself over pictures, man."

  Not just pictures. My purpose now.

  Bob wouldn't understand. Nobody would.

  Only screen understands me now.

  Current project: Car tires. Black rubber. Simple.

  Should be easy. Nothing complex. Just tires.

  But tires won't look right. Shapes wrong. Texture off.

  Type more words. Fix more problems. New issues appear.

  Tire treads never match. Always asymmetrical.

  Fix left tire. Right tire changes.

  Fix both tires. Rubber looks plastic.

  Fix rubber texture. Tire shape warps.

  Simple project mocking me now.

  Screen knows my weakness. Exploits it.

  Client needs basic tire advertisement.

  Just product photo. Just selling tires.

  But screen makes impossible demands.

  Physics break inside the images.

  Rubber bends wrong. Light reflects wrong.

  Type more specific words. "NORMAL PHYSICS."

  Screen ignores request. Tires still wrong.

  Light glares off screen now.

  Makes eyes water. Makes head throb.

  Every pixel important. Every detail matters.

  Can't surrender to simple tire image.

  Victory must come. Must defeat screen.

  Must prove still worthy. Still capable.

  Even as body fails. Even as strength fades.

  Back screams now. Legs cramped. Need bathroom.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Stand up. Room spins. Balance gone.

  Grab desk. Wait for floor to stop moving.

  Walk slow to bathroom. Legs like wood.

  Bones crack loudly. Joints protest movement.

  Static electricity when stand. Hair stands.

  Floor seems miles away now.

  Distance stretches impossibly between steps.

  Ceiling tiles pulse overhead. Breathing somehow.

  Building feels alive around me.

  Or maybe just brain oxygen starved.

  Each step potential collapse. Legs trembling.

  Other workers stare as pass.

  Their faces blur together now.

  All judging. All knowing I'm broken.

  All seeing my failure. My weakness.

  Bathroom door weighs thousand pounds now.

  Push with remaining strength. Falls open.

  Fluorescent lights buzz like insects.

  Too bright. Too harsh. Too real.

  Each step calculated. Each movement planned.

  Body forgotten how to move naturally.

  Only knows typing now. Only knows clicking.

  Human functions seem foreign now.

  Mirror shows stranger. Beard grown. Eyes red.

  Not me anymore. Different person now.

  Splash water. Feel cold. Feel alive briefly.

  Face gaunt like famine victim.

  Cheekbones sharp enough cut glass.

  Eyes sunken deep into skull.

  Dark circles like bruises underneath.

  Beard patchy and wild. Grew unevenly.

  Hair greasy. Stands wrong directions.

  Skin color wrong. Yellow tinge now.

  Lips cracked like desert floor.

  Teeth look different somehow. Seem sharper.

  Or maybe imagination. Maybe hallucinating again.

  Clothes hang loose now. Lost weight.

  Belt needed new hole. Poked with pen.

  Water feels shockingly cold. Painfully real.

  More real than screen world.

  Threatens to pull back to reality.

  Can't allow that. Need screen world.

  Need digital safety. Need clicking comfort.

  Reality too harsh now. Too demanding.

  Reality wants eating. Wants sleeping. Wants bathing.

  Screen only wants attention. Only wants clicks.

  Simpler relationship. More pure. More perfect.

  Back to desk. Back to screen. Back to clicking.

  Bob left sandwich. Note says "Eat this."

  Take small bite. Tastes strange. Been too long.

  Can't waste time eating. Must fix tire image.

  Sandwich tastes like nothing. Like dust.

  Mouth forgotten how to enjoy food.

  Swallowing seems complicated. Almost forgotten how.

  Throat muscles work wrong. Gag slightly.

  Bob watching from desk. Pretending not watching.

  His sandwich identical to mine. His kindness.

  Feel momentary warmth. Quick human connection.

  Then screen pulls attention back.

  Screen jealous of human moments.

  Screen demands complete devotion now.

  One more bite. For Bob only.

  Then back to tires. Back to clicking.

  Stomach protests loudly. Confused by food.

  Forgotten how to digest properly.

  Pain spreads across abdomen now.

  Ignore it. Pain just distraction.

  Pain just body being weak.

  Mind must overcome flesh. Must transcend.

  Must become pure clicking being.

  Eating wastes precious fixing time.

  Boss walks by. Stops at desk. Looks worried.

  "You appear unwell. Health concerns evident."

  Shake head. "Fine. Just focused."

  Boss frowns.

  "Physical deterioration impacts productivity."

  Nod. Promise to improve. Don't mean it.

  Boss's tie perfectly straight. Always perfect.

  His appearance mocks my deterioration.

  His eyes show something new.

  Not just disappointment. Genuine concern maybe.

  First time he seems human.

  "Company has resources," he says.

  "Employee assistance program. Health benefits."

  Words mean nothing now. Just noise.

  Only screen words have meaning.

  Only typing prompts matters anymore.

  Notice boss's hands. Perfectly manicured.

  My nails bitten to bleeding.

  Some missing entirely. Torn off completely.

  Boss keeps talking. Words fade in and out.

  "Required medical leave possible." Sounds threatening.

  Can't leave screen. Would surely die.

  Umbilical cord to digital world.

  Cutting it would end me.

  Nod appropriately. Pretend listening carefully.

  Make promises. Empty words. Meaningless sounds.

  Boss leaves. Return to screen. Return to tires.

  Body sending signals. Pain in back. Pain in head.

  Ignore signals. Ignore pain. Only screen matters.

  Signals growing louder each hour.

  Body screaming now. Not just talking.

  Kidneys ache deeply. Strange new pain.

  Fingers tingle constantly. Sometimes go numb.

  Must shake hand to restore feeling.

  Vision blurs occasionally. Focus comes and goes.

  Screen only constant. Only faithful companion.

  When vision blurs, screen waits patiently.

  When fingers numb, screen understands pause.

  Perfect relationship. Screen knows me completely.

  Pain in joints intensifies with movement.

  Wrists burn constantly now. Carpal tunnel probably.

  Shoulders tight like steel cables.

  Neck can barely turn anymore.

  Spine feels fused into chair.

  Became one with office furniture.

  Pain signals mean nothing now.

  Just body being dramatic. Being weak.

  Screen never complains about pain.

  Screen never stops from weakness.

  Type words.

  "Normal tires. Black rubber. Commercial quality."

  Image appears. Tires better. Still not right.

  Fingers hurt from typing. Eyes burn from staring.

  Body becoming enemy. Trying to stop work.

  Letters on keyboard fading away.

  Most used keys completely blank now.

  Fingers know location by memory.

  Type without looking. Without thinking.

  Words flow directly from brain.

  Prompt becomes more desperate now.

  "PLEASE NORMAL TIRES. JUST BASIC TIRES."

  Screen considers request. Thinks longer.

  Fan runs louder. Computer working harder.

  New image appears. Almost right finally.

  But something subtle wrong still.

  Reflection on rubber not natural.

  Lighting makes tires look plastic.

  Screen mocking my efforts still.

  Testing my resolve. My determination.

  Won't let screen win. Won't surrender.

  Body tries stopping me. Various pains.

  Bladder full again. Ignore it.

  Eyes too dry. Ignore them.

  Hands cramping badly. Ignore them.

  Body staging revolution. Demanding attention.

  Mutiny within own flesh now.

  Won't let it win. Won't surrender to weakness.

  Night comes. Pain grows. Keep clicking.

  One more try. One more image.

  Maybe next one perfect. Maybe pain stops then.

  Outside windows dark now. Building empty.

  Security guard passed by. Looked concerned.

  Asked if okay. Nodded silently.

  Guard left note for boss.

  Can see it on desk.

  "Worker still here. Health concern."

  Ignore note. Ignore outside world.

  Only screen world matters now.

  Pain reaches new levels tonight.

  Each breath hurts ribs now.

  Head throbs with each heartbeat.

  Vision doubles occasionally. Then clears.

  But determination stronger than pain.

  Determination stronger than human weakness.

  Screen respects strength. Respects persistence.

  Type new words. Press harder.

  "PERFECT TIRES. ABSOLUTELY NORMAL TIRES."

  Screen responds. New image appears.

  Tires almost perfect now. Almost there.

  Victory so close. Can taste it.

  Body may break completely tomorrow.

  May collapse into final surrender.

  But tonight still fighting. Still clicking.

  Still beating screen at game.

  One more image. One more try.

  Pain temporary. Screen victory forever.