The Replacement

It was another day of the grind. Punching in and out. 

Logging into the office network. Scouring the breakfast pantry for - nothing. Sucking up to the boss.

The usual, mind-numbing routine.  

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The monitor blurred; routine seemed too much even for my laptop. 

I needed reprieve, desperately 

"If only someone could take over these darned duties for just a week." I muttered in a whisper

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The elevator reached the floor where my office was. It opened -

To me. 

Or something that looked like me, already seated at my desk. 

It was to do my work, depending on performance. 

I looked round.  No difference. No reaction. 

No notice. 

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The day came. We were to be told. My replacement and I stepped into  our superior's office. 

It aced performance reviews. 

Precision. Dutifulness. Conformity. 

it recorded. Logged. Verified How could it not?

It moved faster. Its responses came immediately. 

Mine couldn't. 

Everyone asked it to record. Log. Analyze. Elaborate.

PERFECTLY. 

I couldn't.

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That workspace? That seat?

it was mine. i had to make them feel that.

I swiped my keycard. Access denied. 

Then bugged the receptionist to search for my records. 

The monitor lit up with a list. She scrolled down. 

Too slowly. 

None found. 

Tried the elevator access code. Jabbing buttons. Impatiently. 

"Please try again."

If only I could try again. 

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Another day of the grind. Punching in, punching out. 

Logging into the office network -

Flawlessly. 

Scouring the breakfast pantry - oh. Yes. She didn't need breakfast. Lunch. Or a salary. 

No one noticed. 

Nothing was out of place. 

i was. 

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Original story for Labour Day in Singapore by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

Mirrors of the Mind by Michelle Liew is a collection of psychological and supernatural short stories that explore the quiet unease beneath ordinary moments. These are not tales of spectacle, but of subtle fracture — where memory distorts, silence speaks, and the self is not always singular. In these stories, what is unseen often carries the greatest weight, and what lingers is not what is shown, but what is felt.