story and nail it. When you feel like you have something, bring it to me. I’ll direct you further. Alright, people. Let’s move!” He finally claps his hands loudly and walks out the glass door.
Elijah, of course, steps in after he’s already finished, and says “You heard Peter. Move! I want to see ideas done by four o’clock at the latest.” He looks at me and sighs. Oh, god. He’s walking towards me now.
After everyone disperses to their cubicles, he leans over my desk and whispers “Well, you got your way.”
“What’re you talking about now, Elijah?” I can barely take any more of his shit. I swear, if he touches me, I’ll scream.
“The paper. You’ve successfully converted Peter to your liberal bullshit. I don’t see it lasting too long. Not after it all blows up in his face.” He sees me tense up and laughs in my face. “What? Are you going to get your little Army buddy to help you out? Your big, strong man. It all comes off as extremely desperate. You know that?”
I sigh and shut my laptop. “Just leave already. I don’t have time for this.”
His greasy hand reaches toward me. For a second, I’m paralyzed and unable to react. His little fingers brush aside the tips of my hair and I almost vomit all over him. That’s how disgusted I am with him. “You looked gorgeous the other night,” he says, and I finally get his angle.
“Gross. Don’t touch me.” I run my hands through my hair and bury my head against the desk. There’s no escaping him. Not here, anyway. I look at my phone and see that there’s still seven full hours left of work. I swear the clock is actually moving backwards like in one of those David Lynch films.
He laughs and picks himself up from my desk. “At least you have your looks. It’s about all you’ll have when I take Peter’s job next quarter.” He starts to walk away, but I grab his hand. “What’re you doing? I thought you wanted me to go.”
I lower my voice. Even still, I’m practically yelling through my teeth. “You know damn well you’re playing your little games with me again. What the hell are you talking about? And give it to me straight. If you don’t, so help me, I’ll rip off that single testicle you have and feed it to your stupid dog.” Okay, that was a bit harsh . But damn did it feel good.
He ignores me and whispers “You didn’t hear? Peter’s leaving the paper. He’s writing for The New York Times.” My jaw practically drops to the floor. “What? You thought he was ‘dedicated to the cause’ or something? Hell no. The guy is so over working here. Then again, so are you right? Where are you working next again? Oh, that’s right! You’re going the blog route, aren’t you?” The sarcastic little bitch. I swear I could pounce on him right now. But not in the sexual way. Never in the sexual way with him.
He laughs and slaps my desk loudly. Peter looks up and smiles. I don’t think it’s possible to be more depressed. I feel betrayed. This paper is my life. Without the right leaders, though, it’s subject to falling apart. All credibility relied on our freedom to write good stories. I just knew that Elijah was not the leader to push us forward into the 21 st century.
I glance at the topics on the board and exhale, feeling dizzy. My eyes blur. Kabul, Afghanistan. What the hell happened there? I decide to scour the web until I find something of importance.
Colt
“ I don’t want to talk about that shit ever again. You hear me, man? Nothing of importance happened over there. Nothing. ” I slam my empty beer bottle down on Bowen’s marble counter and the bottle cracks. He’s giving me this look like he wants to destroy me, but he knows I’m a better fighter than him so he backs down.
“It wasn’t nothing and you know it. Fuck, Colt. My wife knows it. Three years of therapy will bring it out of you.” He opens the fridge and realizes he’s out of beer. He closes the door violently and sits back down.
“Three
Elijah, of course, steps in after he’s already finished, and says “You heard Peter. Move! I want to see ideas done by four o’clock at the latest.” He looks at me and sighs. Oh, god. He’s walking towards me now.
After everyone disperses to their cubicles, he leans over my desk and whispers “Well, you got your way.”
“What’re you talking about now, Elijah?” I can barely take any more of his shit. I swear, if he touches me, I’ll scream.
“The paper. You’ve successfully converted Peter to your liberal bullshit. I don’t see it lasting too long. Not after it all blows up in his face.” He sees me tense up and laughs in my face. “What? Are you going to get your little Army buddy to help you out? Your big, strong man. It all comes off as extremely desperate. You know that?”
I sigh and shut my laptop. “Just leave already. I don’t have time for this.”
His greasy hand reaches toward me. For a second, I’m paralyzed and unable to react. His little fingers brush aside the tips of my hair and I almost vomit all over him. That’s how disgusted I am with him. “You looked gorgeous the other night,” he says, and I finally get his angle.
“Gross. Don’t touch me.” I run my hands through my hair and bury my head against the desk. There’s no escaping him. Not here, anyway. I look at my phone and see that there’s still seven full hours left of work. I swear the clock is actually moving backwards like in one of those David Lynch films.
He laughs and picks himself up from my desk. “At least you have your looks. It’s about all you’ll have when I take Peter’s job next quarter.” He starts to walk away, but I grab his hand. “What’re you doing? I thought you wanted me to go.”
I lower my voice. Even still, I’m practically yelling through my teeth. “You know damn well you’re playing your little games with me again. What the hell are you talking about? And give it to me straight. If you don’t, so help me, I’ll rip off that single testicle you have and feed it to your stupid dog.” Okay, that was a bit harsh . But damn did it feel good.
He ignores me and whispers “You didn’t hear? Peter’s leaving the paper. He’s writing for The New York Times.” My jaw practically drops to the floor. “What? You thought he was ‘dedicated to the cause’ or something? Hell no. The guy is so over working here. Then again, so are you right? Where are you working next again? Oh, that’s right! You’re going the blog route, aren’t you?” The sarcastic little bitch. I swear I could pounce on him right now. But not in the sexual way. Never in the sexual way with him.
He laughs and slaps my desk loudly. Peter looks up and smiles. I don’t think it’s possible to be more depressed. I feel betrayed. This paper is my life. Without the right leaders, though, it’s subject to falling apart. All credibility relied on our freedom to write good stories. I just knew that Elijah was not the leader to push us forward into the 21 st century.
I glance at the topics on the board and exhale, feeling dizzy. My eyes blur. Kabul, Afghanistan. What the hell happened there? I decide to scour the web until I find something of importance.
Colt
“ I don’t want to talk about that shit ever again. You hear me, man? Nothing of importance happened over there. Nothing. ” I slam my empty beer bottle down on Bowen’s marble counter and the bottle cracks. He’s giving me this look like he wants to destroy me, but he knows I’m a better fighter than him so he backs down.
“It wasn’t nothing and you know it. Fuck, Colt. My wife knows it. Three years of therapy will bring it out of you.” He opens the fridge and realizes he’s out of beer. He closes the door violently and sits back down.
“Three
Similar Books
