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Rated: E · Fiction · Business · #1923055
Step into the life of Seth Jones as he (or you, rather) has a secret admirer.
It's morning, you're on the Dreamland Express, where the heating is just right, when all of a sudden the lights go out, and you must open your eyes. The first thing you do is to get over to the bathroom, stare directly into the mirror, and yawn. Next, you take your shower, in blissful water, clean up, and suit up for a day as a member of the workforce. You head downstairs, and you find nothing but a cluttered living room, with articles from work, and you see the counter top in disarray. Come on, look at it--it's not even white anymore. Next you open the fridge, and find what ever little food is left and you head out the door.

The day has just begun, and already you remember why you didn't want to go outside. It's raining, cold and windy. The sidewalk is filled with scurrying people, trying to make a living, and the air is congested, filled with noise, and wandering pedestrians. All you can do is stare at your watch, and wonder when the public bus is coming. As soon as you get on the bus, you only need to wait, as you know its a straight road. There you see the destination--BlueGrey Company. It's widely known as a great paper distributor, and to you, it was known because of the high stipend you would be getting.

Once you go inside, you go into the elevator, and watch as some fat man rushes in at the last second. As if by instinct, you slow the door down, and allow him to pass.

"Thanks." He says, out of breath, trying to adjust his tie.

You simply nod. Then, you press a button that reads 6. That's the floor you're going into--the sixth floor, and that is where the work is done. The doors open in what feels like 2 minutes, and you are greeted by a perky, and friendly young lady, who is just preparing to greet people.

"Hello, Seth!" The lady says, reminding you that you are not a cog in the machine.

"Hi, Jane," You say, trying to chat with her, "Is there a new memo?"

"Actually, no. Nothing happening. The boss only said that the next meeting is to be a surprise."

"Okay then," you say, heading to your cubicle. It seems indirect, but something makes you feel warm. It's not a fuzzy feeling, but it's a feeling as if someone's cuddling with you. You stop all of a sudden.

Who was that?

You look around, but you don't see anyone. Funny, you last remember coming off to the sixth floor with Frank, the man from the elevator. He was already in his cubicle, but you're just getting to yours. Now, in the cubicle, you pull out your arsenal, and prepare to engage in yet another fatal battle with numbers. Knowing it would take time to fight this one out, you reach for your--oh, man...You forgot your lunch. You reach around your bag, looking for your lunch, but suddenly you find a paper plate with a sandwich, neatly packaged, and a note on top of it. It reads

"Have a nice day at work! Looking forward to when you come home! XOXO!"

It looks like someone had a crush on you. Like a meerkat, you stand tall, scanning the area for your admirer, but nobody is seen, except your boss, who gestures to return to work. Come to think of it, maybe it was a figment of your imagination. Maybe the admirer didn't really place the lunch down at your desk. Maybe it was one of your female colleagues who had an extra sandwich, and decided to spare you an extra. When the coast is clear, you go around looking for the only six women in this floor, and ask, "Did you leave me this sandwich?"

"No," is the reply from each of them.

You return to your cubicle, "Funny," you say, as you return to work.

Two long hours have passed, and it was time for your break. You still see that sandwich, and you figure, might as well eat it. Sure enough, once you get to the vending area, you sit down on one of the glossy blue chairs, place the sandwich on the clean table, and eat your sandwich. For some odd reason, you get that strange "Just-Like-Mom-Used-To-Make" satisfaction. How did it come to be? You slap yourself to make sure that you ate a figment of imagination. Then you close your eyes. After a few seconds, you open your eyes again, but you see that almost finished sandwich right there. You poke it, just to see if this admirer really sent you a sandwich.

It was clear: supernatural forces were at work. Maybe someone hexed you, but you know magic isn't real. Some guy used voodoo magic on you, but once again, you're sure that's "horse hooey," and brush that thought aside. You then remember your break is over, and as you leave, you get a strange pat on the back that felt a lot like a gentle back rub. That was very mysterious. And as before, you don't see anyone leaving. In fact, you were the only one in the break room.

You're back at your station, and suddenly an adjacent phone rings. You're not sure who's calling, but protocol dictates that potential customers are not to be turned down. Your hand snatches up the jet black telephone, and you say, "BlueGrey Industries, how can I help you?"

"Hi, darling," the caller says.

This has got to be the fourth time she's contacted you. You're certain that she must be a figment of your imagination. That sandwich just couldn't have come from nowhere, and most certainly if she did exist, you don't remember dating anyone since college. You lived a life of celibacy, so when did you get a woman to follow you around?

"Okay, so, how are you?" You say, trying to return to professionalism.

"Absolutely fine. So, when are you coming home? It's been like forever since you left this morning."

Funny she should mention morning. Last time you checked, you were in your bed--alone in the morning, and the night before that.

"Is there anything you need?" You ask, staying the workforce drone you are.

"I finished shopping, and I'm on my way home. Let's see. I think, all I would need you to do is to buy some chicken, and some bread. Okay, see you later."

Your admirer turns her phone off, and as you return to work, you realize your shift is over in one hour. Thank goodness. Another day you survived, but what truly awaits you requires the purchase of bread and chicken. So, you head to the local supermarket, and get the necessary tools, when suddenly, you see a car pull up. It's Frank, and he and one of the women you talked to earlier offer you a ride home. You see that waiting for the bus is a waste of time, so you abide by their demands, and get home in about 10 minutes.

Once you get home, you put the food down, and you walk through a strangely impressive house. Wonder where that came from. You certainly don't remember paying for that new vase, or that HD TV, or that new gaming system. You then look at the kitchen, and you're convinced that you've traveled to outer space. The kitchen's contemporary theme has you admiring the design and style of the kitchen. The next thing you do is to take off your suit, an take get ready to settle down. As soon as you sit down, out comes this radiant light. You turn your head to see if it was the sunlight coming in, but no! Instead, it's an indescribably gorgeous woman! She probably had the most desired figure you had ever seen. You blink twice to see if she is real. She's still here. The woman had a short red hairstyle that ha some bangs hovering over her gold eyes. She had a soft lipstick, and also some pink shirt and a white skirt. Underneath her skirt is her blue jeans. You then notice, on her left hand...a wedding ring?!

"Hello, my husband." She says, clasping her hands together. Completely oblivious to the fact that there was a golden aura oozing from her.

"Um," You are about to ask if you've met, but she takes your hand, in which you're shocked by the fact you have an identical ring. Wait. Where has that been? You never saw it at work, so where did it come from? You're about to ask, but then, she kisses you, and you are sedated. That feeling from work returns to you again, but then you wake up much later to find yourself at the kitchen table. The woman, who proclaims herself your wife, is making a meal: chicken sandwiches. The moment she gives you yours, you begin to eat, but she has a lovelorn look in her eyes. Then she eats her meal. Unbelievable. The meal clearly outranks the products of 5-star chefs around the world. She then looks at you and kisses you again. Once more, you strangely fall asleep.

Now, you wake up, but you see your bedroom. You then see a mirror, and you look at yourself. You still haven't changed yet. The next order of business is to take off your top, and as soon as you put on your jammies, you head over to your bed, and head to bed, wondering what the next day will be like.
© Copyright 2013 Colin Wordsworth (cdcnewwriter29 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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