Unsolicited

The text message simply said “very clever’.  Jim frowned at the scuffed up phone screen trying to make out the phone number.  ‘Unknown’ it said.  Helpful, he thought as he rolled his eyes probably some spammer and he put the phone back in his pocket..   He returned his attention to the meeting, although he hadn’t missed anything.  Somebody with a thick accent was monologuing on the conference phone, reading line for line from his PowerPoint which was being projected against the wall at the far end of the room.

“...team would take over issues at the beginning of their work day...”

Ten of Jim’s teammates sat around the grey table under beige walls staring at their laptops, not even pretending to pay attention to the presenter but instead trying to get ahead of schedule on their assigned tasks.  Jim looked at his laptop, changed windows and pressed “Send/Receive” in Outlook hoping for any external stimulation but no new emails came in.

“...an hour or two of overlap is essential, this enables hand off of any issues…”

With a sigh Jim opened Facebook, scrolling through his feed, not really seeing anything for a few minutes then closed the tab.  He glanced up at the presentation, trying to pretend he was paying attention, his gaze snagged on Tina who rolled her eyes and smirked at Jim.  Jim shut his eyes and dropped his head a few inches, miming falling asleep, but quickly so no one else would notice.  When he opened his eyes again Tina was smiling and shaking her head before straightening up in her chair and returning her attention to her laptop.

Jim looked back up at the PowerPoint presentation.  The slide had changed and been replaced by a flow diagram of some sort.  There were boxes representing his team and their overseas equivalents.  Lines connected the boxes into a circle which surrounded a cloud.  The wall beneath the projected cloud was marked up by dry-erase marker.  Some moron who had used the room before them had decided the thirty by five foot whiteboard on the side of the room wasn’t good enough and written on the wall.  The marking was illegible, it looked like someone had spent some time trying to clean it before giving up.  By this time next week the wall would be repainted.

“... are there any questions?”

The ever anticipated keywords indicated they were nearing the end of the presentation.  Jim’s eyes snapped back to attention and refocused on the slide.  It had one word on it, the letters were a foot tall.  Jim held his breath, hoping nobody would have any questions and they could get out of the meeting 15 minutes early and head to lunch.

“Yeah,” Rick, his boss leaned forward, speaking into the conference phone in the center of the table.  A totally unnecessary effort since one of the many peripheral microphones was clearly six inches from his face.

“I was wondering if you could elaborate on…”  Jim leaned back in his chair stretching his arms up over his head.  His spine cracked in a few places and he grunted, stifling an exasperated groan.  The presenter responded to his question, then there were follow up clarifications.  When the follow up queries were exhausted he asked again if there were questions.  We could get out seven minutes early now, Jim thought… but someone else had a question.  This pattern repeated itself until there were two minutes left and everyone magically ran out of questions or maybe they all just stopped caring.

“Well…” the voice paused dramatically, giving everyone last chance to delay their lunch break, “if you have any other questions feel free to email or message me.  I’m online late most nights and I know this is a big change, so don’t hesitate to ask questions.”  Jim felt himself holding his breath again, the speaker paused again.  “Thanks for your time, have a great day!”

There were mutters of agreement and reciprocation all throughout the room, Rick stood and leaned over the conference phone, his finger on the ‘hang up’ button, he practically shouted into the phone.  “Thanks for the presentation, Igor!  It was very enlightening, we’ll be in touch”.

There was a click and the lights on the phone went off.  An audible, collective sigh of release filled the room.  Tina chuckled, “So it took him an hour to say ‘make sure you get a status update from Europe when you start in the morning.”  Jim rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Rick shook his head, “it’s important that we are all on the same page and don’t drop customer issues.”

“Is he expecting us to have an hour long sync meeting every morning?” Jim groaned.  Luckily nobody heard him over the shuffling of feet, laptops, and coats as everyone hurried towards the doorway trying their best to not look like they were hurrying.

Jim hung back avoiding the bustle so he was one of the last to leave the conference room. The air in the hallway felt cool and fresh after the stuffy conference room he breathed in cleansing the musty smell of his coworkers from his head.

“Hey” came a voice from behind him.  He turned and saw Tina had been waiting for him.  Tina was pretty although Jim had never seen her as anything other than a friend.  She was a good foot shorter than him and naturally brunette but he only knew that because he could see her roots.  Every week her hair was a different color this week it was neon blue.

“You have plans for lunch today?”  She fell in beside him and they followed the rest of the horde back towards their desks.

“Not really, you wanna grab a bite in the cafe’?” Jim hoisted his laptop under his arm, dragging his feet and lengthening the distance between him and his coworkers.

“Nah, let’s head off campus today, what about that deli?  The one attached to the butcher?”

“Sure,” Jim shrugged, “I need to drop off my laptop” he lifted it slightly then gestured towards it with his head, “then we can head out, cool?”

“Cool, I’ll just meet you there.”

Jim’s cubicle was a mess.  Post-It notes were attached to nearly every vertical surface, and then knickknacks and notepads were strewn on virtually every horizontal surface.  No trash, Jim was messy but definitely not a slob.  He walked the single pace to the back of his tiny cloth lined cell and set his laptop down, attaching the cable lock and power adapter.  He turned to leave but something caught his eye.  Sitting in the corner of his cubicle nearest the entrance, hidden from view unless you were inside looking out was a doll of some kind.

Jim squinted quizzically at the doll and leaned over to grab it.  He didn’t know anything about dolls but he knew it wasn’t Barbie, it looked far too much like an actual human.  It was definitely made in the likeness of an adult.  He lifted it up and found a note was pinned to the back.  It read “but I found you anyway”

Car Crash

Naomi sat in the seat, staring into space, while the kids charged around above her, yelling at the tops of their voices.  Something about this situation was odd, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  Her thoughts came slowly and through a haze.  She didn’t know any kids, much less have any of her own.  That wasn’t it.  Something else was odd.  Why were they above her?

She opened her eyes and looked around the car her head throbbed and spun simultaneously, her stomach heaved in protest as she slowly turned her head. Every puke green surface was either sticky from some forgotten spill or dusty from long neglect.  The seats were empty except for a pile of old fast food wrappers stuffed into bags in front of the passenger’s seat.  The car rocked up and down as the children jumped and shrieked above her.

“Hey, knock it off!” she pounded with her fist on the roof of the car.  Her head seared anew in objection.  She rubbed her eyes and glanced through her windows, trying to remember where she was.  She was in a ditch on some back country road, identical to any number of roads in the Great American Wilderness.  Cloud white steam was pouring out of the front of her car, and she didn’t need to be a mechanic to see why, her hood was wrapped around the trunk of an ancient tree.

She pushed herself up and out of her seat, the door groaned tiredly into the quiet as she flopped her feet to the ground.  She must have dozed off while driving.  She stopped and listened, silence washed over here and pressed into her skull, she couldn’t decide if it helped the headache or worsened it.  She hesitated, then pushed herself to a stand, where had those kids gone?

She spun around and squinted against the bright sunlight.  There was nothing on the roof of her car.  Not even footprints, the layer of dust seemed completely undisturbed.  She looked around, maybe they’d gotten down?  But all she could see in any direction was wide empty fields.  She looked up and down the road, there was nothing, not even a bush.  She’d certainly picked a great place to fall asleep, her tree was the only one for miles.  Just a few more feet and instead of a tree she would have knocked over some wire fence.

Cursing, Naomi reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette.  She lit it and inspected her head in the side mirror.  She had a few scratches on her cheek and possibly a bruise below her eye.  There was blood running down the side of her head matted in her hair.  She probably had a concussion.  She groaned and sucked hard on the cigarette as she flopped back into a lean against the car door pulling out her phone.  No service.  Great.

She shoved the phone back into her purse as a crow landed on the road opposite her.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a phone, would you?” she asked it mockingly.  The crow cocked it’s head at her quizzically.  “Or know where those kids went, the ones that were just on my roof a minute ago?”  The crow took two hops towards her, watching her intently.  She squinted back at the crow, sucking hard on her cigarette again, the crow’s eyes fixed intently on hers the whole time.

“Don’t you have something better to do?  Like eating, or fucking, or something?”

“Caw!” the crow barked at her, Naomi stifled a jump then laughed at herself.

“Could you at least go get some help?” she spat back at the crow, then flicked her still smoking butt in it’s direction.

The crow watched impassively as the flaming projectile went wide, then returned its stare to her a moment longer before taking flight.  Naomi watched as it disappeared into the distance, envying the ease and speed with which the bird could go anywhere it liked.  As simple as stepping out the front door, left foot then right, and repeat a few hundred thousand times.

Naomi walked around to the trunk.  She didn’t need a key and there was no latch.  The trick was to hit it with your fist in just the right place...  It took two or three tries but she got it, the trunk clicked, notifying her of her success.  She lifted it above her head, the worthless hydraulic lifts wheezed. She rammed an old closet rod in to wedge it open and inspected her meager possessions.

Nothing was damaged.  She pulled out a bottle of water and guzzled it greedily, tossing aside an old box of flares with her other hand trying to find that box of meal bars she’d stashed in here last week.  She found the box but it was empty.  With a string of curses she tossed the box back into the trunk and repacked her bag.  She quickly went through the car, making sure she wouldn’t leave anything she might miss.  She didn’t bother to lock it up, or ever close the doors, she just started walking.

/r/WritingPrompts: James' Ants

It was 8PM and James sat in the park chewing his sub sandwich like he did every night.  He crumpled up the extra cookie he’d brought, allowing the crumbs to land on the ground in front of  him.  He listened to the sounds of kids playing in the distance while he watched the ants feast on their bounty.  He smiled sadly down at the ants.  “I wish my boss was as understanding as yours.  Even if she is a bit of a slave driver, at least she attends to all your needs.”  He took another bite of his sandwich and decided he had no appetite left.  He tossed the sandwich on the ground for the ants to have.  Some days it seemed his best friends were the ants and the in the park.  “Your contributions will not be forgotten” he muttered to himself. He guffawed at the irony.  Of course his credit stealing boss would say that.

He pushed his earbuds in and started poking at his smartphone, pulling up the day’s news.  “...nuclear plant had a close call today.  Officials are withholding exact details about the incident but it is clear that just after 3 PM Eastern today the plant evacuated all personnel and instituted a one mile quarantine around the reactor in question only allowing NRC officials in or around the plant.  We’ve been assured there will be no lasting danger…”  James stopped listening letting the sound of the voice wash over him as he stood and began walking home.  Was this all there was to his life?  Wake up in the morning, work twelve hours doing everyone else’s job eating a sandwich in the park with the ants then going home?  He certainly hoped not.

With a sigh he unlocked his door to his apartment and reached inside to flip the light switch.  He stopped when he felt something crunch under his foot.  It was a cookie, wrapped in deli paper, just like the ones that came with his sandwiches.  He frowned, reached down and picked it up turning over the pieces in his hand.  He shrugged.  Perhaps he’d have it with his lunch tomorrow.

James slowly began his evening routine, brushing his teeth, eyes bleary and tired.  He startled awake once or twice while still on his feet, finally he gave up on the routine and just went to sleep.  Tomorrow promised to be just as terrible and exhausting of a day as today was.  “Your contributions won’t be forgotten” he repeated mockingly then fell asleep.

James awoke at 6AM and went about his routine with a certain reluctance.  Today he had to present the department’s accomplishments to his boss.  His boss would congratulate him, pat him on the back and then present it to his own superiors, taking credit for both the presentation and the accomplishments.  He ate breakfast unenthusiastically, staring unseeing at the news on his phone.  More about the nuclear incident yesterday, some other news about strange behavior around town.  It seemed there was nothing like a close call with a nuclear plant to bring out the crazies.  More reassurances from people whose names James didn’t recognize, that there was nothing to worry about.

James cleaned up after his breakfast then put on his shoes and coat to leave. He opened the door and stopped short again.  There was a cylindrical paper package on his doormat.  That was odd.  He leaned out the door to pick it up, looking up and down the hall but nobody was there.  He picked up the package and realized it was a deli sandwich.  He began to unwrap the paper and noticed a large note scrawled on a napkin, perhaps in crayon?  It said “THNK YU”.  That was odd.  Who were these gifts from?

James walked to work, listening to music on his earbuds the whole way.  He tried to smile at people as he passed, feigning a skip in his step.  He hoped he could trick his subconscious into being cheerful.  It didn’t work.  The streets seemed emptier than usual and everyone he smiled at seemed jumpy or upset.  He got more than a few indignant glares.  When he got to the office he gave up on being cheery and nodded to the security guard as swiped his badge.  The guard indifferently wished him a good day and James navigated the corridors, heading directly to his desk.

He passed his bosses desk, still empty, no coat hanging on the hook and the laptop bag that usually occupied his chair was still missing.  As usual James was here before everyone, even his supposed leadership.  He smirked mirthlessly before rounding the corner to his own desk.

James worked all morning, polishing his presentation and catching up on e-mail from the night before.  He ate the sandwich and cookie for lunch, they were both exactly the way he liked them.  Somebody who knew him well had to have dropped it off, but who?  At 2PM he went searching for his boss, it was time for the presentation.  He swung by the desk and noticed the coat and laptop bag were still missing.  “That’s odd…” he said to himself.  He peaked around the corner at his neighbor, “Have you seen Bill today?”  The woman barely looked up from her keyboard and shook her head.  She mumbled something through a mouthful of food that sounded something like, “no I haven’t”.  James shrugged and went back to his desk.  He spent the rest of the day catching up on work he’d fallen behind on.  Without Bill present he ended up having the most productive day he’d had in awhile.

6PM crept up on him and he decided to call it a day early, he grabbed his usual from the deli down the street and stopped in the park.  The sun was still out and he could hear the kids screaming and playing.  It was nice to head home when the world was still alive and awake.  He crumpled up a cookie for the ants and dug into his sandwich with a smile.  He was halfway through his sandwich before he realized they were gone.  No ants had come to claim his cookie.  Not even one scout.  He knew their hill was near here somewhere so he started looking around.  He saw a patch of dirt behind the bench that had been ripped up nearby, as though some construction workers had been replacing a line.  Maybe the anthill had been there and had been destroyed by the work?

James eyed the cookie on the ground sadly before finishing his sandwich.  Perhaps they were reestablishing somewhere else.  He finished his meal quickly then headed home.  Plugging in his earbuds again, he pulled up some local news.  The news caster was frantic, he could barely make out what she was saying, something about mutant ants?  Ravaging the city, killing, burning?  He looked up and around him, it must be a hoax.  He was pretty sure he would have noticed something like that, but the street did seem oddly quiet.  He shrugged and kept listening.  She continued to give a shrieking account of horror and destruction he laughed at how cheesy it was.  It sounded like a terrible attempt at an Orson Wells type broadcast.

Then as happens when you’re watching a horror movie he started to get jumpy.  The horrific accounts of violence seemed to be moving through the city and the pattern eerily reflected his own, as though the someone were clearing the way to his home.  This street was too quiet, where had everyone gone?  What was going on?  He turned up the alley to his apartment hurrying up the stairs.  Why hurry?  he chided himself.  He got to the top of the stairs and swore he saw something scurry around the corner at the end of the hall.  He shivered and tried to snap himself out of it.

James stuck the key in his door and shoved open the door.  He was almost hyperventilating.  He needed to take a breath and calm down!  He shut the door behind him a little harder than usual then flipped on the light.  He stopped and stared in horror at what was sitting on his table.  His boss’s severed head was upright on a plate staring right at him.  A look of terror frozen forever on the features of his face.  James crept closer even though he knew he should run.  He could see a piece of paper with beautiful red writing on it.  When finally he got close enough to read it he saw the words written carefully and clearly in blood “Your contributions will not be forgotten.”

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/46jil3/wp_you_like_to_leave_gifts_for_an_ant_colony_like/

/r/WritingPrompts: Handshakes

James Smith stared at his reflection in the hotel mirror, hyping himself up.  You can do this, you’ve come too far to fail now.  You have a firm handshake, firmer than anyone else in your class.  He closed his eyes and visualized his father.  James had grown up on a farm in Idaho, pulling potatoes and living a simple life.  His father had saved up everything, scraped together every last dollar he could to give James the opportunity to go to business school and now he’d graduated with honors.  Now that he’d finished the video interviews it was time for the face to face, and that inevitably meant a handshake.  He’d grown up hearing horror stories about how firm the businessman handshake had become over the centuries.  It was said that some of the wealthiest men in the world had their hands replaced with bionic implements to make their grips that much firmer.  Bone crushing grips that could turn coal to diamonds.  In school he’d practiced with his peers, growing up as a farm boy he had a naturally firm grip, his father, uncles, and neighbors had all valued a firm handshake, but he knew nothing could prepare him for the real thing.

Today James was meeting with Steve Johnson, a midlevel manager at Buffet Incorporated.  They’d spoken a few times during the interview process, Steve seemed like a pleasant guy but in order to have come as far as he had in his career he certainly had a formidable handshake.  James opened his eyes and checked his reflection again, firming his resolve he nodded and left the hotel room.

As he walked out the front door of the lobby, he eyed the waiting taxis trying to decide which one would smell the least repulsive.  He turned to a tap on the shoulder to find the doorman begging his attention, “Mr. Smith?”  James nodded, “The company has sent you a car…” he gestured towards a black limousine.  James stopped, that was odd, he was interviewing for a low level finance job, why would they have sent a car?  James tensed up but nodded to the door man stepping towards the car.

Before he reached the car Steve Johnson stepped out of the back.  He smiled at James and extended his hand.  James began to sweat.  He could feel it dripping along the insides of his shirt, collecting on his brow and around his neck.  James took a deep breath and received the handshake.  He was shocked at how quickly the handshake went, a brief touch and then Steve had yanked his hand free.  Could this have been a courtesy to a new graduate?  Was he sparing James the humiliation of a broken hand?

“It’s good to finally meet you face to face,” Steve was saying, “I’m sorry about the change of plans, but… well... “  He gestured to the waiting car.  James nodded feigning confidence and stepped into the car sliding across backseat.  Then he stopped cold when he saw who else was there.

Sitting across from him was an older man, with jovial face but intimidating eyes.  He had silver hair and a suit that matched.  Edouard Buffet, heir to the Buffet fortune and head-man himself watched him with a smile.  James had read about him in school and in preparing for his interviews, the man was a shark, cunning and smart, every bit as formidable as any of his predecessors.  “Hello James,” Steve slid into the seat next to James and closed the door, “I’m sorry about the change in plans.  After reviewing your application I wanted to meet you myself”.  Edouard grinned James just sat their agape, the car had begun moving and James hadn’t even noticed.  “I’ve taken a keen interest in your hiring because frankly, if all works out well, you’ll be reporting directly to me.” A million thoughts rushed through James’ head, he was thrilled that he’d done so well in the interviews, terrified to be sitting in the presence of this legend.  “Forgive my manners,” Edouard said suddenly, leaning across the car, “I’m Edouard Buffet,” as he offered his hand James could hear servos whirring and spinning up, the man had a legendary handshake, one that could crush the hands of some of the most formidable businessmen in the world.

James gulped, preparing himself for yet another handshake and he didn’t think he’d get off easy this time.  He thought back to University, “Business Etiquette 310” had an entire chapter on the handshake, the trick was to … was to what?  James’ mind went blank.  Edouard was waiting, amusement draining from his eyes being replaced with impatience.  James remembered his father, the disappointment he would feel if James failed in this.  Gathering himself he grabbed the man’s hand, remembering every handshake he’d ever had, recalling his father’s firm handshake when he was just a boy of 10, putting everything he could into this, he knew if he broke a few bones they would all laugh and say it was understandable, but James would be taken down a peg in these men’s eyes.  He squeezed, the whine of motors pierced the air in the quiet and tense car, James could hear grinding but with his adrenaline pumping he didn’t know if it was his hand or perhaps some other mechanism of the artificial appendage he held.

James looked up to meet Edouard’s gaze and was surprised what he saw.  The man’s face was red with determination, all hints of mirth gone from his eyes, sweat was appearing on his brow.  James abruptly broke off the handshake confused.  “That’s quite the handshake you have there,”  Edouard said with obviously feigned amusement in his voice.  He was casually rubbing the inside of his palm.

James shrugged, his confidence building.  “I worked on my father’s farm as a boy, I guess working with one’s hands your whole life gives you a firm grip.”  James smiled at Edouard who nodded skeptically.

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/45uat2/wp_the_year_is_3000_only_people_with_the_firmest/