Writers Apocolypse Day 3

Day 3

The secretary was back again today, Bossman put her into the frontlines as soon as she arrived in the building.  So I had nothing to do today, I just had to write something.  Something…I typed in the letter “A” on the screen.  I strained my eyes and tried to think of words to follow.  But the cursor just blinked beside the “A”, making it look like Al.  Awesome.  I ran my finger tips across the keyboard back and forth, creating the illusion that I was actually typing really fast.  I did this for a good minute, and got bored again.

Then I decided to drop in next door to see what Zareen was up to, since my eyes started to turn to saltines.

“What’s up Zareen!”

She was a little startled and typed in “opasdfjo[” onto her blank document.

“He-ey Spencer.”  She said.

“I see you have done quite a lot there.”  I cracked.

“I decided to trash my old story, it wasn’t too good.”

“I see…”

There was an awkward silence.  We just looked at each other, then our eyes danced around the room.  Fluorescent light, pen, stapler, perforated ceiling tiles, there is chopsticks holding together Zareens hair.  Ohh,  that’s cute.  Which gave me the sudden impulse to ask.

“Do you like Chinese food?”

“No, Im allergic…”

“Oh im so sorry.”  I felt bad, and tried to look empathetic.

“Just kidding” Zareen smiled.  “I love it”.

These people and their dry sarcasm… fools me every time.

“Oh that’s good.”

Stupidity ran across my face like a flashing SOS beacon.   I felt like a dumb brick, a really dumb brick that was dropped many times before it was put into a buildings foundation that recently tumbled because of a lack of structural integrity.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your trance, but do you want to go out for some later, possibly, maybe?”

“Yea, sure!  I mean, but we’re so busy.”  I said.

“She motioned her eyes towards her monitor and said, “I think we could manage.”

I gave her a nervous smile and a nod, and quickly returned to my fortress of solitude, which was only an inch thick barrier between us.  I felt funny, I think the coffee was especially atrocious today.  I will need to have a talk with Stacy.

Writer's Apocolypse Day 2

Day 2

The bossman issued me to make some copies today.  His personal secretary was out today and I could see why.  He abuses the hell out of that woman, I try to imagine her sitting down, but I couldn’t.  I don’t think any part of her perfectly round tookis has ever made contact with the soft black leather of her own chair.  Poor woman.  But I don’t get why I have to make copies instead of Stacy, who just makes that brown muck all day.

I arrived at the door of the copy room and spot a pair dangerously close.  As soon as they sensed my presence they quickly collapsed their hands by their thighs.  My mind didn’t wander as much when I saw the slick black hair of grease lighting.  It was just Jake, a guy who dresses “in style” or so he says.  With the lovely Stacy.  Who, might I mention again, brews poison.

 I spotted a tiny slip of paper peeking through the crevice made in between the man’s index and middle finger.

“What you two up to?” I asked.

“Oh, just chit chat” Jake responded.

“Ahh, hello Stacy.” I said as I turned my back to Jakes greasy stare.

“Hello, Spence”

“I’ll be out of your business in a minute, just making some copies.”

The two shifted a little farther thinking that was enough to be out of earshot.

They were indeed a sad pair.  The Copier warmed up and sounded like the roar of an aircraft turbine winding up.

 Jake never has ideas, ever.  He gets them from Stacy, and I think everyone knows that except our lovely boss.  Who cannot tell how flaming all his topics are.  “The life and troubles of an abandoned puppy” or “A teens guide to College” in the point of view of a drama queen girl may I add.  Then it again, maybe his horrendous tie-dye weave tie is the culprit.  I think that tie controls his brain, it would make sense.  I fed paper by paper in and yawned. 

writer's apoclypse Day 1

 Writer’s apocalypse

                                                                                                                        Joe Baker!

Day 1

I slammed my head leaving a defecating print on the stack of unwritten sheets.  Then I started to roll my face in a wax on wax off motion all over my desk. I groaned loudly.

A pair of eyes neatly framed by thin black glossy rims appeared from the horizon created by my office cubicles artificial hedge.

“What’s wrong Spencer?”

“Writer’s block Zareen”

“Shame, I’m already on my second page!”

“Really?”

She paused for a moment, and subtly sank down out of view.

While I continued in my agony, drawing nothing but blanks, suffering from the quotas deathly embrace.   Stacy breezed by and an intertwined mix of espresso and a trace of flower spice that tingles your nose made me lean back in my chair in relaxation.

Too bad I fell.

Stacy turned around and knelt over me holding the glass jar. 

“Are you ok?”

I didn’t respond right away, my eyes were wandering along her fantastically low cut shirt. 

“…Are you ok?” Stacy said with less concern in her voice and a crooked brow.

“Yea, I-I’m fine thanks.”

I tried hiding the shit eating grin in the back of my head until she walked back off to do her own business. 

“Sweet.”

I tilted my chin up and saw Zareen again, looking down at my pathetic self.

“On page 3 I’m guessin’?”

She quickly receded again and I continued grinning.

(this series will be continued!!! Keep checking for updates!!!)