Gerry stared at the computer screen, disbelieving, his eyes wide open.

“Oh no,” he screamed, throwing his arms in the air and falling back in his leather office chair. “It can’t be. I can’t have done that.”

Furiously, he pecked at the keyboard but knew it was futile. All his work of the last three days, writing and revising, rewriting and polishing, all to no avail. He would have to start again, nothing else for it.

His 3,000-word article which poured scorn on superstitions and people that believed in them had to be ready for first thing Monday morning. That was the deadline. And now that meant working over the weekend.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, leaning forward to desperately start a file search. Not only did I delete the damn thing but I ignored the warning question and pressed “Yes” I want to delete. What possessed me? What was I thinking? Brain dead idiot!

Gerry shook his head and looked up at the digital calendar clock on the wall. He blinked as the time clicked to 5:35. Then a wry smile of acknowledgement creased his mouth. Beneath the time display, was the date: February, Friday 13.