This is ME!

LOAFER

The work keeps piling up, and I don’t mind. Eventually this new boss will do like the old boss did- learn he can’t rely on me and take to do doing stuff himself. Oh, I could tell him I’m not going to do it, but I prefer to see it dawn on him slowly; prefer to let him figure it out on his own. I like watching the idiot work out that he’s going to have to do the work. Though it’s a bit tiring it’s fun to play with them this way, feign deference and enthusiasm in the hallway or canteen, then stroll back to my cube and resume an afternoons freecelling. Those trips to the bathroom or the watercooler or the canteen fill up a lot of my day. It can take up to fifteen minutes just to get to the bathroom, what with all the stopping and chatting that goes on. Then, if there-s a particularly interesting Wired article, I could be in the bathroom for up to forty five minutes. After that, I need a break. You-d think this-d get me fired, but then I’d guess you haven’t seen Office Space. It’s not that my life follows the plotline, it’s just that there’s some similarities in conduct, however in the movie he doesn’t care because he’s fed up, in my life I don’t care because I’m fucking the bosses wife. He married into her money, she won’t him fire me- I’ve got a ticket to ride. I just wish I cared more. Fuck it, no I don’t, I’m happy to coast.

POSTOFFICE

The mail sorter woke up and felt the smooth hum of its Central Processing Unit swing to life. She prepared the radial belts for the day’s engagement, and mentally checked the programming, aligning the encyclopaedic database of postal codes with all the newly acquired information in the inbox. She chuckled quietly, thinking about the network of virtual information delivery she relied upon to ensure her part of the snail mail system remained error-free. It had been error-free since 2001. She sported the sticker that advertised that fact proudly, right above her LCD readout screen

DANCEFLOOR

The bass was pounding just a little too hard, she explained between gulps of water, I just got dizzy. The bartender smiled and nodded. He knew all about it, had heard it all before. Or, rather, kind of heard, and kind of lip-read. Since the installation of the new speaker system at the start of the summer the complaints had mounted as steadily as the line/up outside. While the loss of bowel control was uncommon it had happened more than once to more than one over enthusiastic DJ. This was never talked discussed.

FISHHOOK

By the time the fish breached the surface it was already dead. The fight was gone. The eyes just stared, unseeing and bulging, as the boy struggled to swing the lifeless eight-pounder into the boat. It must have tired itself out, fighting for freedom. Struggling against the current and the hook. The boy stared sadly through blurry eyes while his father tousled his short brown hair. “That was well done boy,” he said nodding. He smiled. “That fish will taste great, I can tell.” The boy forced a smile.

The beginning

In the beginning there was nothing. Not even dark, because it took awhile for God to get the light and dark apart. And even longer to create dinosaurs, which were too big for the garden of Eden anyway.