In my 15 years here at the newspaper, I’ve grabbed more things off the printer than I can count. Which I realize isn’t that impressive considering the source. But a few minutes ago, not only did what I send to the printer disappear in to the void of space, but what I found waiting for me is possibly the most cryptic message I have ever received not involving a lawyer or psychic. So far, no one in the newsroom has claimed it as a missing page to their story — which makes me wonder: Is “Neo” trying to contact me from somewhere in the Matrix?!? Is the office suddenly going to dissolve into green, numbered code all around me?!? Am I just a human Duracell for The Machines?!?
Or have I just had too much coffee on deadline day?