10/10/2012
It was still early in the day, evening it should be, I sat at my office's desk on the fourth floor of Marker Co., and yes my work is evidently named after my boss' last name. Anyway, I was sitting at my office's desk on the fourth floor, bored as I'll ever be. Considering whenever I get a story printed in the newspaper, I still had to go through memorizing the entire thing on Marker Co.'s website and some others.
Let me tell you that that if your work had Twitter, Facebook, and everything related of those sorts, you'll be stuck on a computer going through repetitive phases of categorizing, organizing, updating, commenting, reviewing; repeating over and over and over again every single day. This was the majority of my time spent here as a journalist and it can be nerve wracking, but there are those particular moments where I go out and scoop up some dirt. And to be metaphorically literal, whatever I write down is "dirty"; the lies I spread throughout the city earned me a couple of promotions, and once I reach the fifth floor I shall be promoted to co-manager.
All those wasted years working here will finally pay off when that happens. But... I still prefer the life of an author, although working here as a journalist is almost compared to one I guess. But I digress. I've already had some of my years wasted in this job so I might as well see through it from here 'til end.
As I sat around on my desk, a few of the employees who also worked for a position on this floor were far behind me nonsensically blabbering about stuff they've seen on the internet, like memes and other garbage. I turned my head to glance at them and then turned back to my computer. It seemed they were having fun talking. What would I care, though? Those were some of the people I once made fun of, especially that weird one who wears the pair of yellow jacket and pants for his go-to-work clothes. That was the one I rumored him as being gay. Even if he realized that I was the one who started it, what would he do? Beat me up? Ha! If there was one thing they should know about me was that I'm not a pushover, or a nice guy for the matter of fact. If they want a brawl I can most certainly give them one. However, it is most unlikely that'll happen. As stated before, my boss could deal with my prank habit and such, but he won't tolerate irrational behavior like brawling. If my boss had to know who started it, that employee's ass would definitely be fired.
Back to the matter at hand, as I sat at my office desk on a cheap black swivel chair I heard a vaguely familiar voice behind me; that person would be none other than Tina Staubsauger.
"Hello there." said Tina who was the first to greet.
"Hey." I blatantly greeted without giving so much a glance or care even.
We had been working together for the past several years, but that doesn't mean we're friends. She's still placed as insignificant, and I will forever keep it that way. What was it that she saw in me, I'll never know.
"So what are you going to do when work ends in an hour?" asked Tina leaning against the back of my swivel chair.
The wheels of the chair rolled forward a little which almost broke my concentration, but I ignored it and continued typing on the keyboard.
"I'm going to go home and just do nothing, as usual, so why not you go on your merry way so I can finish this here Twitter update."
If there was another thing I knew about Tina was that she was a persistent type.
"Come on, Rick." Tina groaned. "We should do something together; go to a movie, or go to dinner. There are many things out there we could do."
I stopped typing and swiveled my chair around until I faced Tina.
"Look. I'am a very, very, busy man, and I have many plans to do for today. But... tomorrow, if there's room in my schedule, I'll think about it. Today, not right now. Okay?"
Tina didn't reply using a word but responded with a grateful smile, and later she headed off to attend some paperwork.
I faced back to my computer's screen and laid my right elbow on the desk with my right palm planted across my forehead.
"This is going to be a an awful weekend..." I grumbled.
Work was almost over. Only five minutes until the clock hits 3:00PM, and I had everything done since 2:40PM. My fingers were sore after hours and hours of typing computer keys nonstop, but there's nothing like a warm mug of coffee to give you a jump start on an exhaustive day at work.
Four minutes left, and I sat just swirling around in my chair completely bored at random; I folded plain paper into paper planes and tossed one or two out of the window nearby, watching them soar, watching the paper modeled airplanes gliding by mother nature's calm breaths with the blazing afternoon sun basking the side of Marker Co.'s building with it's brimming rays. It was such an amazing view, besides the glaring, of course, but that's what I've always hated about the afternoon hours is the sun. It is always so glaringly damn bright.
Strange when I fool around time seems to flow much more slowly; what felt what could have been ten minutes was rather a couple, and I still had two minutes of work time left hanging. Some of the employees had already gone and left the building, including Tina, and it was so quiet and serene here in the building's office. Here I am, all alone, nobody of which to talk with or to talk to. And yet I must say again: why would I care? These people, all of these people are insignificant to me, just like my parents, but there's something telling me; almost as if some unknown obscurity is trying to make me reconsider my judgments.
I threw the burden aside and readied myself for heading out. As usual the winds picked up when I exited the building, making me incline to believe mother nature always had this planned each and every day. This kind of wind isn't ravaging or cold, however. This wind... felt warm and caring, like mother nature was deliberately giving me a hug, but I neglected it and hopped into my car and begun driving back to my humbling sanctuary what I call known as home.
Later at night, I was sitting on my sofa watching television after I got done writing a page of a novel I'm working on: Light & Darkness. It'll be explaining everything the bad and good times of my past; how I've endured all the happiness and sorrow throughout my years of childhood.
Anyway, I was watching 'Regular Show', and as irregular as it may be, it is one of my favorites with 'Adventure Time' and 'Ed, Edd 'n' Eddy' as the top three. I found it a tad shame Ed, Edd 'n' Eddy is no longer continuous as they've pretty much stopped when they made the movie: 'Ed, Edd 'n' Eddy's Big Picture Show', and by far I considered it the best epilogue of the series. So I guess it'd be best if they stopped there.
After an hour I got bored and turned the television off, realizing the time was 8:15PM. I sat for a long while on my sofa, inside my living room, thinking about the blanket which still resides in my bedroom. I dared not touch it. For a particular reason? I don't know. Something about that blanket throws me off each time I think of it. I would push the persistent thought aside, wanting to forget everything about it, yet it keeps crawling it's way back into my mind. Why can't I ignore it? Why was it even there in the first place? Why am I conflicting myself because of it? For the same reason - I don't know.
I had enough as I rose from the couch and angrily stomped towards my bedroom and as expected the blanket still lied there on my bed. Taunting me. I hesitated, but I shook off the unsettle and grabbed it thus nothing happened, which made me incline that earlier in the living room I was just being superstitious. Regardless, I firmly held on to the fabric while making my way to the garage door, opening it as I threw the cursed blanket as hard as I can until it faded into the abyss of darkness.
When I threw it, though, I saw something detach itself from the blanket and floated slowly down towards the ground. I knelt down with one knee to get a closer look, and the object what appeared to be some sort of feather. And it wasn't just some ordinary feather, it happened to be a... preened, yellow feather....