Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Hands Clean

She flops down on her chair, trying to catch her breath, as he continues to jeer at her from the cabin door. He is younger, fitter, and definitely a better runner than her. She grits her teeth in anger, trying to judge what would be better: staying put and conceding defeat or running after him and losing anyway.

Clearly there’s been a mistake. This is not how she had planned it to be. She should have settled down, gotten married to her Mr. Right, and should have been carrying his second baby by now. And yet, here she was, single, slogging her ass off, writing copy at an advertising agency, and playing “who-can-beat-who-harder” with this fresh Client Servicing Executive who had been a stranger less than two months ago.

She is confused. Yet she is happy in a weird kind of way. He breaks the monotonous humdrum. He makes deadlines tolerable. He makes late nights acceptable. He makes working on Sundays enjoyable.

She knows this could get messy. But she doesn’t really seem to mind. She knows she won’t tell and neither would he. She knows that these are the early signs of a state of affairs which would ultimately be under rug swept…

She throws a permanent marker at him. She misses and he taunts her with his boyish laugh again.

She grits her teeth yet again, seething in genuine anger.

He winks at her.

“How about lunch?” he says.

She smiles.

----The End----

4 comments:

  1. aww... but this could also be a beginning of something wonderful :-)

    Lovely story :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. @Raajii
    Thank you!

    I wish it was the beginning of something wonderful too, but intuition tells me it isn't! He he.

    ReplyDelete
  3. office romance, ah?
    -v

    ReplyDelete

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