Writing Prompt: He scratched his head thoughtfully.

Morning all. We have made it to Friday. And so let’s jump on in and see what today’s prompt brings us/ Timers at the ready and off we go!

Interesting. I think my brain started with the thought of a robbery and then somehow violent corporate protest crept in. I kind of like it. It’s not a story line i go for normally so it is nice to see my brain kick back something different on a Friday morning.

Friday, July 14^th: He scratched his head thoughtfully.

He scratched his head thoughtfully.  Something wasn’t right.  He knew it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  He stayed where he was in the doorway, lowered his arm and stared.  There was some sort of warning in the back of his mind that told him not to step into the room.  It was the sort of instinct he long ago learned to trust.

Many of his friends called it his magic power, but he knew what it was.  It was something his eyes picked up that his brain hadn’t yet processed.  His eyes saw something and stopped him moving forwards until his brain could catch up.  Except that this time it was slow to do so. 

Nothing really seemed out of place.  The room looked as he left it.  Magazines on the table.  Secondhand furniture for those to comfortably wait.  All was as it had been.  ‘Maybe I’m wrong,’ he thought.  He took a deep breath. 

That’s when the scent hit him.  ‘Not wrong.’

It was his nose helping him out. Not his eyes.  He concentrated on the wrong sense.  That’s why he was so slow.  Leon backed out of the doorway carefully.  He watched each step, retracing his path through the hallway and out through the front door.  He closed the door behind himself, locking it with his key for extra measure. 

His office wasn’t the only one in the converted house on this row of converted houses.  There were four people who worked upstairs. The upstairs rooms were converted into offices and the downstairs into waiting room and meeting space.  The kitchen was seldom used but it was still set up like a kitchen.  The company that rented all of these houses on this street at the very edge of the commercial district didn’t intend it to be a permanent office space.  This last strip of houses, the vestiges of a now lost neighborhood, were a stopping place while the company built its new corporate headquarters.

The construction timelines were altered due to unforeseen circumstances and the houses were rented so work could continue uninterrupted.   Harven, Inc was not a company that wanted it’s employees working from home.  So they turned homes into offices.  Leon shook his head and looked at the building.  He was the first to come in today and didn’t think that any of those who shared his little house would be coming in. 

‘But it doesn’t mean the other houses couldn’t be rigged to explode as well,’ he thought.  ‘Or that the rigging in this one wouldn’t take out the others.’

There was too much danger.  While his section of work was rather uncontroversial, he couldn’t say the same for his coworkers.  The company was currently involved in several highly controversial projects and any one of them could bee the target.

‘And security is more lax here.’ He thought. He briefly wondered if he should call this in to the HR department before pulling out his phone and calling a friend of his who worked on the city’s bomb squad.  ‘I’ll call Nancy in HR later,’ he decided.