Once a day, at exactly 2:17PM, Tabitha would stop what she was doing. She’d freeze in place, arms by her sides, chin up, eyes wide. She’d hold perfectly still, smiling just barely, and simply pause.
After about a minute (seventy-one seconds, to be precise) she’d return to whatever she’d been doing, never noticing the missing time or realizing that she’d paused. She didn’t realize it, but she never did anything that would be dangerous to interrupt at around 2:00. She’d be ready for the pause, though she never knew it happened.
Sometimes after that pause, Tabitha would have brand-new ideas about things. She never found that odd. Whatever thoughts she was having were totally normal. No reason to think too hard about them. She had so much to do, after all – keeping up with the house was a full-time job.
She remembered her old full-time job, of course. She’d been head of programming at the firm where she met her husband, Will. She’d thought Will was a strange, creepy little man at first, but that had been silly. Will was wonderful. She was madly in love with him.
That was one of the first things Will had implanted into her mind, after he’d injected her with the microneurotransmitter.
Since then, he pushed daily updates to her programming via the hub at the office. She’d quit her job, but not before giving Will a substantial raise. She’d married him. She’d dedicated herself to going from a drab, poorly-dressed office dweller to the absolute fox Will knew she could be.
And every day, he made her a little better.