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A Wrinkle in Time (Working Title)

March 29th, 2007 · No Comments

Okay, first attempt at writing.  Be honest, and let me know if you want me to continue the story.

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She looked in the mirror as she was getting ready this Monday morning.  The puffy red eyes were obvious; as were the gently-coined “smile lines” around her eyes.  She thought, “Thank you, Estee for the ultimate ‘old woman’ cream.  Despite the fact that you are raping me blind with the cost of hope in a bottle, you are at least doing your job for now.”  As she shuddered thinking about the future of her first gray hair, she wondered if her contemporary hair dresser would be skilled enough to facilitate her obsessive tendencies in retaining her 36 year old status, or if she would have to move over to the “Hair Barn” for the blue effect.

Elizabeth was not looking forward to the presentation (aka reaming) today.  Sales were flattening, complacency had settled in, and upper-management had reached the peak of its ability to grow the company to the next level.  She was saddled with finding a solution which required massive organizational changes, and this was her first experience in a reduction in force and management shuffle.

On top of that, Elizabeth (no one called her Liz for fear of death) was struggling with a failing relationship.  Tom was a good guy at first, but, over time, became increasingly insecure about her professional status.  After long days at work, she came home to his insecurities in the form of passive-aggression and character attacks.  Her puffy eyes were tell-tale signs that had appeared about a month ago, and had not ceased even to this day.

She moved into the bedroom to dress for the day.  “What’s best for bad news?  Navy? Black? Red? No, not power.”, she thought.  Soothing tones were not her thing.  She opted for black.  After dressing, she donned her best “board-worthy” jewelry, and took one last look in the mirror at the moderately successful cover-up job on the stress-induced look of her face.  “It’ll do.  Stress looks good anyway.  It makes me look compassionate.”  She looked at the bed where Tom lay sleeping, sighed, then turned and left.

The car service was right on time, as usual.  Jesse, her driver, was perky but predictably professional, handing her the coffee he brought her every morning, just the way she liked it. ”Tough day today, Ms. Long?”, he asked empathetically.

“Yes, tough day today, Jesse.  And thanks for the coffee, yet again.  I only wish I were as nice as you think I am.”.  She thought about that statement, hesitated to judge herself for stating something of vulnerability, but realized it was the truth.  “Okay, let’s go.  The earlier I get there, the earlier this is over with.”

Jesse drove carefully through the city, as snow had fallen the previous evening, and there was a potential for ice.  As he approached corporate, he heard her breathe deeply, and saw her drop her eyes to the floor from the rearview mirror.  He felt sorry for her.  She had been saddled with something very difficult, obviously, and he was glad he was not a part of that world.

She deftly regained her composure as she entered the building, smiling at the doorman and security guard as she passed.  They had always liked her; she was kind and remembered their names.  She even brought them gifts for their birthdays and Christmas holiday.  Again, she thought to herself, “If they only knew what I am about to do, they would no longer think of me the same way again.”

“Damnit!” she yelled, as she glanced around the executive A/V room. She looked at her watch.  It was 7:30 a.m. “Where are the damned caterers?  Where are my A/V guys?”  She looked toward Barb’s desk outside of the room next to the CFO’s office, but she was nowhere to be found. In fact, the room was completely bare; no A/V equipment, no obligatory comfort food for presentation content, no printouts of the agenda.  “What the hell is going on here?” she asked out loud to no one.

As she fumed at the disintegrating situation, a voice caught her off guard.  “Ms. Long, you need to come with me.”.  She looked around for the person attached to the voice, but found no one.  “Excuse me?”, she replied.  The voice was strong and deep, and recitated the same statement, “Ms. Long, come with me.”  ”Well, I certainly can’t go with you since you are not within my line of sight”, she retorted. 

As quickly as she could turn around, a white light shined into her eyes, rendering her momentarily blind as a hand grasped her arm gently.  She felt an odd sensation, tingling, and then, nothing.

 

 

 

 

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