October 30, 2013

Happy Halloween

Maybe it was lack of sleep that made her think the barista was really slow. Plus, this being Halloween, every coffee shop employee seemed distracted by their witch hat and vampire teeth. Ann, however, was a suit in a hurry. She had no time for low level people being silly or oblivious to her importance. Dressed for battle in pin stripes, she tapped her right stiletto loudly, as if that alone would teleport the skinny mocha into her hand.

“These people don’t get it,” she seethed. “And those dumb teeth. Uck. Half these gals would do well to get veneers or at least whitening strips if they ever want to succeed.” Ann comforted herself with the knowledge that her smile dazzled, enhancing the qualities that made her so worthy.

October 29, 2013

Daily Write: The Spreadsheet

Crap. 15 minutes til the meeting. I foolishly figured a 1 p.m. start would give enough padding to finish my report and even broke my rule about no food near the keyboard. (A near fatal accident for it some months earlier with a smoothie made me ban food and drink.) Coffee excluded!

So I grabbed my brown sack and peeled down the baggie over my Munster-cheese-and-lettuce on whole grain. Not a bad combo if you take time to actually taste it. I chomped quickly during the last proofread.

Hearing people head into the conference room, the report was as final as it was going to get. I hit the print key and looked down to wad up the leftovers. “What's up with this Munster slice?” It took a moment to understand that there was thick wax paper from the deli clinging to what was left of the cheese. My panicked assault on the sandwich revealed that, yes, I just ate a lot of deli paper and God knows what else.

I don’t remember much about the meeting. I do remember other things about that afternoon.

October 23, 2013

Daily Write: Oil on the Drive

Toward the end, he’d get fuzzy. Run-down and unsteady. So, she’d drive him over to the doctor in Mount Collingsford for a big dose of iron. A couple of times he got a transfusion, even. Almost 100 years old, his insides were described to her, in layman’s terms, as being “leaky.” Like an old car that seeps oil onto the driveway, his seals finally wore out.