Morning all. I think a day off was exactly what I needed. Sometimes a three day weekend comes at just the right time. I feel refreshed and ready to take on the rest of the week. Woot, let’s jump into it then. Timers at the ready, and off we go.
I like this. I am not entirely certain where this is going but I think the main character has been playing it safe and is now about to be forced to commit to the off hours project. Whatever that turns out to be. It could be fun to write. I’ll just need to figure that part out.
Tuesday, February 21st: He was clearly angry.
He was clearly angry. I wondered what happened over his lunch break to cause this level of anger to rise. This morning he was his usually happy go lucky self, not a trouble in sight. Now he trailed thunderclouds in his wake. I glanced at the clock. We each got one full hour for lunch. Devon took only thirty eight minutes for his today.
It was a very short time for something to go so badly wrong.
I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t know him well enough. We worked across the aisle from each other and occasionally shard one or two line comments when our path’s crossed. We were pleasant to each other but we didn’t know each other. Not well enough for me to question his personal life anyway.
He settled into his chair and I could see the anger etched into the stiffness of his neck and back. It was a dark simmering anger. I looked away before he could catch me studying him and looked to my own computer screen. I was skipping lunch today, which is why I was the only other person still left in cube land when he returned. The other cubicles around us were empty. Others would filter in when the hour long lunch break was done, but for now it was just the two of us.
He looked over, I could practically feel his eyes on me. They burned as he looked and then I felt a sudden chill as he looked away. I glanced over and he was turning on his computer, powering it back up for the rest of his work day afternoon. He was pretending I wasn’t here so I was going to give him the same respectful distance. I pulled up the program I was working on.
Technically speaking it was not a project for Witherspoon and Sons. It had nothing to do with them. However it was quiet here and I discovered that if I ate a large breakfast and an early dinner I was fine skipping lunch and I could use that one hour of silent work time for my own projects. The computer I was using was my laptop rather than the work computer so everything was kept separate. I even used battery power so that no one could say I used company electricity. As I wanted this project isolated, I turned off the wifi on my laptop as well. There was no connection linking me to the office. I thought about putting it away, but I was so close to finishing. I glanced at the clock and saw the time ticking back down. I heard a heavy sigh from across the aisle.
“If you want me to ask I will,” I said without looking over. “If you don’t want me to ask I can finish this and pretend you aren’t there.”
“You can ask,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.
I apparently interpreted the heavy sigh correctly. Stifling my own irritation I powered down my laptop and slipped it back into my bag. I slid my bag underneath the desk, out of the way and more importantly out of my own sight. I didn’t want to be thinking about it while I completed the rest of the afternoon’s work. This job wasn’t all that taxing on my mental capacities but it was a steady income and I had no desire to risk it by being accused of shirking.
“So,” I said turning to Devon. “What happened?”
He turned in his chair to face me. “You know Barry from…” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder towards the offices of the management that was only a bare step above us in the cubicles. I nodded.
“I overheard him in one of the booths. Layoffs are planned for this afternoon,” he said. “They were joking about it.”
Ten til Midnight 