The distant boom of thunder and a flash of lightning made it clear that Springtime had arrived. Her desk was on the 22nd floor providing her with a clear view of the cloud filled sky. Though it was only midmorning the black clouds and falling rain made it appear to be far later than it was.
For a moment she stared out the window and lost herself in thought. Later that day she'd join a thousand other commuters on the road and engage in the joy of rush hour. She was hopeful that it would be an uneventful drive, but this time of year you never did know when a hailstorm might start.
A good hailstorm could wreak havoc upon your car. Out here the hail had a proclivity for being larger, golf ball and even softball size hail were not uncommon. It was fun to watch from within the comfort of your home, provided it wasn't wrecking your car or battering a hole in your roof.
Two more blasts of thunder made her windows shake. That didn't bode well for bedtime. The kids hated the noise and would seek comfort sleeping with mom. That was good for them, they'd get a full nights rest, but not so good for her. They had a tendency to roll around and kick their legs. More than likely she'd wake up bruised and exhausted.
As she sat there lost in thought she wondered if he ever thought about her or whether he had just moved on. She didn't really think that he had, but they had never gone this long without speaking. She wasn't used to the silence and hadn't really believed that he would maintain it for as long as he had.
It was confusing. The silence made her feel unimportant and irrelevant. She would have been thrilled to have received a call or an email, some sort of sign that he missed her. The door to her office suddenly burst open and she lost her train of thought.
There was only one person who did that, her boss. Apparently she thought that common courtesy applied to everyone but her. She was short and chunky with a hairstyle that forever looked like she had just woken up. Not only did she lack courtesy she also lacked fashion sense or maybe she just had bad eyes. It was hard to say.
Regardless of the reason she had a bad habit of wearing jeans that were three sizes too small and a tight top. It was a good look for a stuffed sausage, but not so good for her. In addition to her lack of fashion sense and courtesy she suffered from a lack of boundaries.
About once a week she'd waddle in the office and start telling stories about miserable she was and how many drugs she took to ease her mind and help her sleep. And of course these bonding moments only took place after the work day had ended.
Inevitably she'd find herself having to stay late so that she could pretend to be interested in listening to her tales of woe. It was beginning to wear upon her and she was afraid that sooner or later she'd get caught rolling her eyes or give some other sign that made it clear she thought that the boss was an idiot.
Still, she was thankful to have a job so she did her best to put up with it. Looking up from her computer she offered a big smile and waited for her instructions. Still she couldn't help but wonder if somewhere out there that boy she wasn't supposed to be thinking about was thinking about her too.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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