Life Outside My Cube

My life, a work in progress.

Monday Morning Blues

The rain pattered on the window, interrupting the silence in the downstairs office, somehow in sync with the tapping of the keyboard. The harshness of the cold fluorescents seemed to match the mood of the gray light from the window, where dark clouds overshadowed the dewy landscape. “A miserable way to start the week,” he thought, glancing outside at the drops running down the window pane. “I”m glad I didn’t take a vacation day today.”

Jim Beckett’s original plan was to take the whole day off in order to work on the yard, as the cool wet weather seemed to have taken a turn toward spring over the weekend. Moody April had changed her complexion again, however, and this week was gearing up to be  a wet one. Sure, and with the warm spell, his grass was likely to be quite tall by the time he could get the mower out on the soggy lawn.

He sighed, and turned back to his computer. Jim typically spent Monday mornings scrounging for work to take him through the week; things were pretty slow at his company at the moment. This morning, however, his inbox was already full. “That’s a relief,” he thought, “Looks like I have more than enough work for this week, and I won’t be gazing longingly outside today for sure.” He smiled wryly at the sudden way his attitude could change. “What a creature of circumstances.” The phrase, “like a wave of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind,” ran through his head.

The explosion assaulted his ears, as ceiling tiles and debris rained down upon his head. Stunned and wide-eyed, desire for self-protection kicked in and he scrambled under his desk. The lights flickered and went out, and an eerie silence echoed through the office, the raindrops hardly a flicker at the edge of his senses. The daylight shone through the window, gray daggers through the dust. Beckett couldn’t imagine a more bizarre situation.

Shouts and loud footsteps echoed through the floor above, echoing down the connecting stairway. At first he felt a sigh of relief, but that quickly turned to terror as the voices became clearer. “Go, go, go! Call out bodies; we can’t have witnesses!” “Looks like 6 down!” A female scream rang out, then was cut short after several loud shots. “Make that seven!” “Blue, check the basement. Red, the server room, quickly!” Terrified, Beckett , pulled his chair up to the desk, and made himself as invisible as possible, as more footsteps clattered down the stairwell. He several pairs of black boots run by, then “All clear, no bodies!” and the men ran back upstairs.

Beckett heard muffled voices, then “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” as the footsteps quickly moved toward the front door, then silence again. Trembling and too terrified to move, he laid on the floor, waiting for what seemed an eternity. In reality, eternity lasted only a minute, and another explosion rocked his world, louder than the first. It was a Monday morning Jim Beckett would never forget.


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