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Monday morning. Or Tuesday? Lost track.

Boss calls meeting. Client complaints now.

"Images increasingly disturbing," Boss says. "Explain issues."

Can't explain. Can't tell truth.

"AI difficult," I say. Voice sounds foreign.

Words feel strange in mouth now.

Tongue heavy like dead thing.

Speaking hurts throat. Too dry.

Boss's face blurs slightly. Focus difficult.

Meeting room too bright. Too loud.

Other people present. Marketing team maybe.

Their faces show concern. Show fear.

Client images displayed on wall.

My images look wrong there.

Toys with faces. Cars with teeth.

Food that seems to bleed.

Don't remember making these versions.

Screen must have changed them.

Screen must have sent wrong files.

Try explaining but words jumble.

Language centers breaking down now.

Italian words mix with English.

Simple thoughts become complex expressions.

Boss looks increasingly concerned.

Can see career ending. See failure.

But failure meaningless compared to screen.

Screen battle more important than job.

Than money. Than stability. Than life.

Boss frowns. "Bob's images satisfactory. Why yours problematic?"

No answer. Screen hates me. Images fight me.

Back at desk. New project. Baby toys. Colorful blocks.

Type words. Image appears. Blocks arranged wrong.

Not stacked right. Look like teeth. Like they bite.

Assignment should be simple. Child-friendly.

Bright colors. Safe shapes. Happy feeling.

Type carefully. Focus intensely.

"Colorful baby blocks. Educational toys."

Screen hesitates. Thinks longer than normal.

Fan runs louder. Processing something complicated.

Image appears slowly. One piece at time.

First blocks look normal. Then change.

Arrangement shifts while watching.

Like time-lapse photography of movement.

Blocks form pyramid. Then arch.

Then teeth formation. Dental arrangement.

Unmistakable shape. Unmistakable message.

Screen communicating directly now.

No longer subtle. No longer hiding.

Open warfare between us now.

Office around fades to background.