Posts Tagged ‘Office’
Feb
Interview
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath and cleared my mind.
I hadn’t been interviewed in years and now older, I didn’t know what my chances were of getting hired. My friend recommended me to the department head, and I hoped that would get my foot in the door.
I had my briefcase in hand with an excellent portfolio and references. What more would they want?
I opened the door and entered the office only to be told by the receptionist that the manager had an emergency and I’d have to come back another day.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Undercover
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The clatter of typewriters, especially Maryanne’s, echoes in the room. She’s pounding heavily on the keys to reach the deadline. It’s imperative she gets done before the other women if she’s to prove herself capable. She reaches the end and pulls out the paper. With quick steps, her heels clanking on the floor, she heads to her boss’s office.
“Well done, Maryanne. You’ve proven yourself. You’ll be going to France as an undercover secretary. Are you up for it? I can’t help you if you’re caught.”
Maryanne nods and waits for instructions.
She has no idea the danger she’s in.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Big Money
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Howard entered the school’s front office Monday morning following his Saturday wedding. The head secretary smiled at him and cooed coquettishly, “Ooh, Mr. Morgan, how’s married life?” The other secretaries smirked, eager to hear his reply.
The question amused Howard. He didn’t know what to say so he pumped his fist in the air three times and said, “It’s fantastic. I’ve doubled my income. Life is good!”
“Oh! Oh!” the head secretary shrieked, hands flying to her throat. “You’re just the most horrible man.”
Grinning madly, Howard walked out of the office thinking, What a great start to the day.
From Guest Contributor Robert P. Bishop
Sep
It’s Not My Fault
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
‘Can you please complete your homework?’ the frustrated dad nagged his uninspired child, for three consecutive days, rather the Sony PlayStation grasped her attention.
‘Hmm’ this being her only response.
On the fourth day, the exasperated father was summoned to the principal’s office, knowing full well that he would be questioned regarding his child’s tardiness, he braced himself.
‘Dear Mr. So and So, it saddens us to summon you to school like this,’ the Headmistress began to berate him, ‘your child has complained to us regarding her inability to complete her homework due to you occupying her time after school.
From Guest Contributor Imraan Ganie
Imraan is a seasoned technologist, father of 3, and a lyrical addict who writes short stories, poetry, and limericks in his spare time. His quirky take on life, inspired by his curiously unconventional life experiences lead to twists of humour and tales that are always entertaining. Imraan lives on the Southern Coast of KwaZulu Natal in South Africa. Imraan has two short stories published in 2021 in an anthology called Taxi through Mzansi featuring short stories by twenty of South Africa’s finest authors.
Jun
Keeping Secrets
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Don’t tell your mother,” whispered Harold, sweeping up porcelain pieces as Jacob walked in.
“Gee, Dad, she’ll explode when she finds out.”
“That’s why I ordered a replacement.”
When the doorbell rang, Carrie raced to the door.
“Did you order anything?” she asked Harold who happened to appear alongside.
“Yes I did,” he mumbled. “I’ll open it in my office, after my next Zoom meeting.”
At dinner, everyone gathered in the dining room. Carrie glanced at the China cabinet.
“Strange,” she uttered. “I’m certain that figurine has blonde hair, not red.”
Jacob turned his head the other way to smile.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada.
Sep
Mask
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Jonathan burst into the office, waving a bunch of papers and screaming out loud: “It’s all a scam, it’s a hoax. I’ve got proof in my hands. It’s the government trying to control us and all of our movements” as he rips off his oxygen filter.
Just seconds later he starts gasping and drops dead almost immediately.
Proof was indeed given to be very careful with skepticism.
Little did they know he died of acute heart failure.
And that’s why till this date the inhabitants of Planet Ksam are being closely watched and are all wearing very uncomfortable oxygen filters.
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Sep
The Office Visit
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
In his office at the university, Professor Kudrow pounds on the computer keyboard. His research paper needs a rewrite, his ex-wife wants more child support and he feels a migraine coming on. He wants to go home and get drunk.
His grad student, James, appears in the doorway with an older gentleman.
After introductions, James’ father confronts the professor.
“My son paid you for a better grade, didn’t he? Don’t lie to me. I have documents.”
The professor froze.
“Your silence is proof enough.”
He turns to his son, “My son, a thief and cheat! I’m reporting both of you.”
From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin
Jun
Gordon Perkins, Analyst
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
Gordon drummed his pen listlessly as he stared out the window. From his office on the 24th floor, it was possible to see a sliver of ocean, but only when pressed against the glass. Here at his desk, all that was visible was the building across the street, a grey brick affair more depressing than his cubicle.
The plant on Gordon’s desk was equally as depressed, drooping over the edge of the pot, three detached brown leaves huddled in the corner. They both needed the same cure. Sunlight and soil.
Instead, Gordon returned to the spreadsheet open on his desktop.
From Guest Contributor Stanley Dutt
Feb
Freedom Of Expression
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Their art combined gibberish with colour. Exterior walls and street recycling receptacles became graphic spectacles.
“Let’s see you join us,” they demanded.
“It’s wrong to deface public property,” I replied.
When a recycling truck rolled in, frustration of the driver as to not being able to do his pickup job landed them at the school office. The self-appointed artists got suspended from class and were ordered to remove their creations.
“Did you take part in that graffiti?” Dad asked.
“No, I only watched,” I answered, careful to not disclose that they asked me for my artistic advice and I obliged.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She
resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband and stuffed animals and
many friends.
Nov
Regrets
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I write my own praises, dictating stories to muckrakers. Advisors insist on it.
I ran for office to serve. Tragedy. Much is given, much is expected.
I spout platitudes with such grace, it scares me.
Advisors expect me to conduct myself with grace. Don’t show feelings.
Constituents expect a shining prince, savior of liberalism.
I drink copiously, the moon as my witness. I can’t contain the weight of demands, desires.
I wake up on stairwells and in closets, hangovers uniquely my own machination.
I feel failure pirouetting, a taunting ballerina. She’s right to taunt.
But I’m not allowed to regret.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri.
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. He is the recipient of two Honorable Mentions from Glimmer Train. His story, “Strangers,” was nominated for The Best Small Fictions. Mir-Yashar’s work is forthcoming or has been published in journals such as (mac)ro (mic), Runcible Spoon, JAB Fiction and Poetry, Unstamatic, and Ariel Chart.