Room One-Three-Ow: #2 - Reduce Speed When Time And Space Compressed

'Hey! Are you listening to a single word I said?'

I snapped back to my composure and looked at the man who was shouting at me. He looked old and grumpy. He wore a name tag on his red uniform saying that he was my boss. He was the boss of logics and processing. We were at my cubicle in the concrete forestry of cubicles. White lights gleamed softly in the ceiling walls.

'Are you deaf?' He yelled again.

I shook my head. I was almost in tears.

'You got it wrong again!' He slammed a stack of paper onto my desk. My computer shook. 'Does it make any sense to you?'

I left my mouth half-opened like a goldfish. I stared blankly at the stack of paper. My back felt wet. I was sweating like a hog. My hair must be in a terrible mess too. I hadn't look at myself in the mirror. I must looked like a total wreck.

'I want them by my table by the end of the day!' He roared and stormed off.

I sat there, like a child and twisting the tips of my fingernails. I looked at the stack of paper with the corner of my eyes. He was right. It didn't make any sense. Nothing did.

My throat felt empty and lost. I needed a drink. Maybe two. Maybe more. I needed something to hold on to. I'm sick. I think I'm sick. It's difficult to breathe. It's hard to see.

Iris came into my cubicle. She apologised for reporting my mistakes to the boss. She hadn't expected the boss to throw a tantrum. I looked at her and shook my head. She had such large and beautiful eyes. They sparkled like a lake of jewels. I told her my mistakes were significant and assured her not to beat herself up like that. I'm nice in that kind of way. I guess that's why women enjoying sleeping with me. I thought about Dee. I thought about Dee with her yellow top. And I thought about Dee without her top. She looked grand. She looked like an Amazon queen. I hoped Iris would let me get into her pants.

Something real to hold on to.

Iris asked me if I was doing okay. I smiled nervously. I asked her out for dinner. Provided if I could manage to redo my work by the end of the day. Iris looked uncomfortable and she looked away. She showed me her wedding ring and walked off. I never see her again.

Anything to hold on to.

After work which I had stayed overtime alone into dark woods of the cubicles to correct my mistakes, I went home straight. Strange days. Hazy days. Yawning blue. Electrostatic hue.

Anything, please.

The electricity was down. The water was cut. The ceiling continued to leak. There were cracks on the walls. The shadows were multiplying on the screens of every wall. I could not find the ashtray.

Please.

I stared in incredulity as Dee walked out from my bathroom. She was wearing her yellow top. It was very translucent. Her breasts were perky and brilliant in the moonshine. The little crystal skulls jiggled gently around her belt on those tight leather pants of hers. She draped a wet towel on her neck and enjoyed the comfort it brought. The water dribbled around her neck and shoulders.

'How did you...?' I asked in restrained exhilaration.

'Just think of me as a genie...' She sat beside me and looked into my eyes. 'Your personal genie.'

'What do you want from me?' I asked suspiciously. This was all too strange and new. What was she doing? What was I doing? What was she suggesting? Who was she?

'I should ask you that question.' She smiled with a lipstick of perfect teeth.

'What could go wrong from this?' I asked meekly, fully aware of such liaison.

'Everything. You could wake up in a tub of ice with only one kidney.' She laughed. 'Or much worse.'

She was right. Everything could go wrong. They would go wrong. Murphy's law. Crash and burn. Pilot's test-drive. Everything that could go wrong would go wrong. But I looked at Dee's face. It was so right. It felt right. She was right. I was wrong. Everyone was wrong. Murphy was wrong. That was no right or wrong. Happiness was a ploy to prolong lives. Miserable lives. The ceiling leaked. The walls wrinkled. Promises were just positive reinforcements to reward people for enduring living. Miserable living. What could go wrong if everything was wrong in the beginning? Nothing.

I laid my swollen head on her bosom. I asked Dee if she had saw my ashtray. She took off my clothes and told me it was not important anymore.


To be continued...