Charlie Watkins had watched her for five months now – how she would run her pencil through her hair when she was thinking, how her chair would creak back and forth when she was stressed, how the sunlight glistened off of every fiber of her exposed being.
And today was to be the day he was going to talk to her.
Not waiting for his resolve to lessen, he stood up, walked straight over to her terminal…and promptly sneezed all over her face.
As she looked at him in utter disgust and shock, he suddenly felt all desire to speak with her gone. He saw that where the pencil ran through was a steady stream of dandruff, that it wasn’t the chair creaking, but rather her teeth grinding together, and that the glistening was produced by overactive sweat glands.
Deflated, delighted, and now free, he returned to his cubicle.
He breathed in deeply. His sinuses had cleared up.
Well…if that don’t beat all.
-June 12, 2011