You're Not Leaving Me

          Charles rubbed his eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to wake himself up. Here he was, stuck in the unmoving traffic of Escario and just one car horn away from his breaking point. It didn't help that the driver of the orange vintage Volkswagen Beetle in front of him was an elderly geezer whose reflexes had, like his hair, long since gone away. Under normal circum-
stances, Charles would have been more understanding, but this was not one of them. He was tired, hungry, and moving at roughly the speed of grass growing. All he really wanted at that moment was to take a long, hot shower and have a dinner consisting of a cheese sandwich and a Coke while watching whatever basketball match was on. 'Was that too much to ask?' he thought as he gnashed his teeth together.
         This was, by far, the longest day he'd ever been through. And Charles was not one to exaggerate.
         It had started out normally enough. Same coffee (with sugar, no cream), same early morning rush hour. It was when he got to work that things started to go sour. Last minute meetings popped up everywhere, obnoxious clients flowed in like water, and he got bawled out by his boss for not submitting a file he didn't even know had been assigned to him. And on top of all that, there was the matter of Olive.
         Olive.
         When he first met her at a friend's birthday party, he had immediately been smitten. Everyone said she, his friend's girlfriend's friend, was pretty, with her wide, bright, brown eyes and shy, dimpled smile. Charles thought so too, but it was when she spoke up that she finally reeled him in. Underne