For fifteen years, the two palm trees—officially named Asset_01 and Asset_02—hadn't moved an inch. They were trapped in a permanent state of 72 DPI bliss. Their job was simple: provide a "relaxing atmosphere" for a guy named Greg while he balanced spreadsheets and ignored emails.

Asset_01, the taller tree with the slightly jagged frond, was a cynic. "He’s doing it again," he’d rustle (silently, of course). "He’s hovering the cursor over the Trash bin. One day, he’s going to drag us in there and replace us with a high-res photo of a mountain range in Switzerland."

But then, the cursor flickered. It didn't go for the Start menu. It began dragging the folders. One by one, Taxes 2008 , Vacation Photos , and Resume_Final_v3 were dragged into the abyss of the Trash.

The beach was suddenly empty. For the first time since the Windows XP installation, the palm trees could see the entire horizon.

He moved the cursor one last time, right between the two palm trees, as if he were virtually tapping the screen goodbye.

Asset_02, the curvy one, was an optimist. "Nonsense. We are a classic. We represent the dream of the 4:3 aspect ratio. Besides, look at the icons."