Writing Prompt: It was crushed.

Morning all. I hope you are ready for the final writing prompt of June. Timers set for fifteen minutes and let’s see what we find.

I feel like I wrote just up to the point where something is about to happen but the timer went off. Not entirely sure where I was going, but I kind of want to add fifteen more minutes on the timer to find out.

Tuesday, June 30^th: It was crushed.

It was crushed. I lifted up the flower.  The long, elegant stem had been flattened, the petals torn and crushed.  The flower was destroyed.  The vas hadn’t simply been knocked over, but once it fell someone took the time to stop on the floral arrangement. 

This wasn’t an accident, it was sabotage.  I could hear the chuckle in the hall. Soft and departing.  Martin wouldn’t want to be caught in the vicinity.  He would have caused the destruction and gone.  If he wasn’t in sight, no one could blame him. 

It must have just happened. 

I looked around.  No one else was in sight either.  I had a limited window.  I went for the broom cupboard moving fast.  I was lucky in that Alice forgot to add water to the vases when the flowers were placed.  I am not entirely certain why anyone thought putting flowers in vases with no water was a good idea, but Alice believed it was enough. 

‘Later,’ I reminded myself. 

I was going around and adding water to the vases.  It was what enabled me to find the destruction, and it would help with quick clean up.  I swept everything into the dustbin and knew later I would return with a damp cloth to ensure no glass fragments remained between the boards.  For now everyone was in heels and dress shoes, so I had no feet of glass shards. 

The broken vase was in a prominent location, so I shifted one of the others into it’s place.  The gap was easily filled, and I looked around for my watering can.  I filled the vase and took a breath.  No one had seen.  No one could complain.

I knew Martain would remain hidden, would deliberately stay away from the vases for the rest of the event.  Not only would he not want to be seen returning to the scene of the crime, but he would not want to be seen near any vase so he could say he didn’t even notice them on the off-chance accusations came his way.

I had been through enough of his ‘little pranks’ as his parents liked to call them to know the routine.  ‘Just get through the event.’ I reminded myself.

It was the last event I would do for the Carsons.  Not that they realized that.  I was the person they requested for all their events as they liked my work and my ability to tame the chaos.  It was something several of my clients liked and my boss relied on.  However, I was done with my boss as well.  This was the final contract I was scheduled for and in the morning my letter of resignation would be on his desk.

There was something calming about being the only one who knew this was the last of this type of thing I would have to tolerate.  Later there would be surprise and possibly arguments.  My boss, Anders would never believe I would actually leave. He was Anders and people did not leave Anders.

And yes, he always heard his name as though it were in flashing lights with fireworks behind it because of course, he was THAT Anders. But celebrated as he might be, working for him was an absolute nightmare.  There were a few nice people I met along the way, I’d hate to paint them all with the same brush, but the Carsons managed to eliminate any nostalgia I might possibly feel on my last day. 

I just had to get through today.