“While we do have a safety net if something goes wrong, there’s no guarantee that…” “Please excuse me for a second.” Xena smiled, receiving a few nods in response. She left the room, glancing left and right before heading straight to the bathroom. She reached for her bag… Only to find air. Darn! She had stuff she needed in there! Xena quickly rushed back to the room, her eyes darting around awkwardly when she grabbed her bag. At least half of everyone there were staring at her blatantly, whether in annoyance or suspicion. She exited the room swiftly, letting out a breath of relief. “Finally! I thought I would die of shame on the spot!” She laughed. “I’m glad I got that over wi…” Xena scowled, her eyes widening as she dug through her bag. Oh no! Where was it? She must have forgotten in the rush to get to the meeting on time… Xena groaned, tugging at the ends of her hair. What could be worse than forgetting to bring pads?

The muddled blacks of the office room drowned me. I couldn’t bear to listen to another speech droning out of the mouth of some executive. Caught of guard, everyone in the room levies their attention at me.

From my daze, I realize they expect something from me.

I try to recall what they asked, twiddling my pen in my left hand, then I sift through my mind. It’s no use. Every moment here blends together like paint, lifeless and grey paint. The paint that is ordinary and plane, the paint that is just like this room. Yes, like every office space in this whole entire massive, corporate business, the tedious paint is everywhere.

I flick the edges of my crumple pages of data I did not bother to read. Back and forth to jog my mind. Swirling the paper into a roll I finally speak, “I uhh…”

I only fill the air with needless company. I slide the paper away from me. It feels like tingles of a razor as I stand.

“I’m sorry,” I say formulating an excuse in my head. “I think I left the oven on.”

Finally, I had made up my mind; I should have done it years ago. I walk out and never look back.

Those sleepless night crunching statistics, the kid-pool-shallow coworkers, the unbearable bosses, those boring six sided rooms, and the horrendous goop in the coffee machine, it will never haunt me again. I quit.

OH SHOOT! I’m running late for my meeting! It’s 9:40 in the morning. My meeting is at 10:00 exactly. I just woke up!

I quickly go to the bathroom and do my bathroom things. Then, I get dressed. Quickly made pancakes, and rushed to my car.

It was 9:55. Good thing it takes five minutes to get there. Just my luck. There’s traffic. I honk my car, and open the window. “What’s the hold up?” I yelled out the window. “There’s a car accident. Someone got badly injured.” Someone responded.

Noooo now is not the time! I was already on strike two with my boss. He’s not going to believe me. AHA! I’ll take a picture of the traffic and the accident once I’m close enough. He’ll believe me if I have proof, right?

I record everything, and eventually, the traffic clears. It was 10:10. I was ten minutes late. This was bad. Really bad. I quickly get to work, and I sprint up the building to the 100th floor.

It was 10:20. I open the door. “Boss, I am so sorry there was TERRIBLE traffic. There was a car accident, and someone got badly injured.” I say panting.

I show him the video. Luckily he believes me, and tells me to sit down. The meeting was so boring. It has been 30 minutes. I’m just in another world zoning out, and then I remember.

“HOLY SHIT I LEFT MY STOVE ON!” I yelled accidentally. Everyone turned, and stared at me. “First, you come in late. Now, you want to find an excuse to get out? Really, Mr. Oliver?” Says my boss.

“No I really left the stove on and-“ I try to explain, but my boss said, “No need to explain anything. You’re fired.” “But-“ I try to defend myself. “No buts you’re fired.” Says the boss firmly.

I go to my car, and drive home quickly to turn the stove off. I am too late. My house has been reduced to ashes…

Tara listened as the director of the company rambled on about the new policies they were putting into place, half-heartedly taking notes on her tablet. This was not how she would’ve preferred to spend a Saturday afternoon. She began to daydream after everyone stopped talking, their hands busy writing down ideas.

‘What should I make for dinner tonight?’ Tara thought to herself.

‘Steak? Chicken? Egg rolls?’ She pondered the options out of boredom.

‘Gotta make sure the stove has enough gas,’ Tapping her pen against her free hand, when she suddenly stiffened in her chair, eyes going wide.

“I left the fucking stove on…!” Tara hissed under her breath, causing the two people on either side of her to glance in her direction. She looked to the front of the table where the director was giving her an expectant look.

“Ms. Smith? Did you have anything to add?” He said, clasping his hands on the table in front of him.

“Ah, no, sir. I apologize, but I need to go home. It’s an emergency,” Tara said with an air of embarrassment, her cheeks a shade of tomato-red.

“I see. Well, go ahead and I’ll be sure to email you the finished policy list. I hope everything is okay. Thank you for being here,” He replied, his tone understanding.

“Thank you, sir.” With that, Tara stood briskly and gathered her things, quickly making for the exit.

“I am so bored,” she thought to herself, “why do we have 8am meetings? This easily could have been an email.” Larissa, a 23-year-old consumer relations team lead for the nation’s number two mobile phone service provider, was barely able to keep her eyes open as the company CEO discussed the quarterly financial outlook during this month’s zoom call. She was always very meticulous with her time and schedule. Everything was always planned and well organized in her life. She hated and lamented anything she considered a waste of time. “Would they even know if I wasn’t here right now?” she wondered to herself as she worked on responding to business emails in the background. “Why does this company waste so many resources? I bet I know for a fact we would be more productive if…” before Larissa could finish her thought something of extreme importance dawned on her. “Oh sh*t! Today is my father’s funeral!”

I don’t know why I wear white. Every time I think I’m enough of a grown up to wear it, life serves me a drop of tomato sauce on a perfectly bleached shirt.

But no, today would be different! I told myself.

A big meeting with the board and rumours of a promotion circulating the office, warranted extra special attire. My sleek white jumpsuit had been hanging in my closet waiting for this day, and I needed the extra confidence. But confidence leaves you just as quickly as it arrives.

Researching, practicing, and rewriting the presentation left no time for checking my personal calendar. And as I was welcoming everyone to the meeting, I realized that had been my biggest mistake of all.

My calendar read: Wednesday, September 21, Period Day 1.

Drip…Drip….Drip…Drip…”Can SOMEONE, ANYONE, or SOMETHING …Please take care of that? I’m about bonkers!”

Why did the heat rise up the collar of my shirt and seemingly jump to my face?

“YOU! GO! NOW, Please!”

I fumbled my feet, standing up too fast, they keys on my lap, clattering loudly to the floor.

Now everyone was looking at me. Me! Why me? I didn’t leave the leaky faucet in the conference room on… i turned quickly, nervously for no good reason. I had estimated my compensation at this new job would not even cover the rent.

I enjoyed the reprieve of eye contact as i turned away and i could feel the cool air blowing through the window but most of all i was really enjoying the assault on my nostrils of a mix of Vanilla cookies and coconut coming from that direction.

I peeked a glance, it was the most serene smile all day! Thats when I remembered my wife that morning struggling in an unusual and awkward moment to get our daughter to nurse as a tear fell down her warm cheeks. I looked away and resigned to turn off the faucet my face now burning with guilt. I complacently sat down quietly as all the eyes around glanced at me knowingly.

I started counting the seconds that felt like minutes, then hours…why i wondered did i not ask for more than their posted range? Why was i such a coward. I could not hear a thing at that point to anything but my own thoughts. I quietly and quickly exited the room past the vanilla girl straight to my car to quickly make an appointment to donate some plasma on my break.

“When you get there, make sure you ask the neighbors if this guy has shown any violent tendencies in the past,” Scott ordered.

“Sure thing,” nodded the tall reporter from the corner of the news room, his back against the cool window that looked out over the street below.

“Okay,” Scott turned to the board. “Are we missing anything? We’ve got Frank on the double homicide, Jessica on the fire to the north, Caleb on the fire to the east, Natalie on the homeless camp… and…”

Scott drifted off. His hand, pointing at the items on the board, slowly came down. A smile pulled at his cheek.

“Is there something else?” Jessica asked.

Scott’s whole figure changed. He felt more relaxed than he had since… he couldn’t remember when.

“No, I…” he muttered. “I just remembered something.”

“What’s up?” Frank asked from the corner.

Scott’s eyes were looking past the board. It didn’t matter anymore. He turned and strolled over to the line of windows, enjoying the cool air blowing in from the open one in front of him. He put his hands on the windowsill and peered down.

“You know… it’s not so bad,” he observed. How could he have worried before?

“What’s going on, Scott?” Natalie asked with a laugh.

Scott suddenly remembered the people there with him. He turned briefly to look at them, then back to the pedestrians and cars moving around five stories below him. A gentle breeze was just strong enough to flutter the flag hanging on the flagpole a few yards down the building.

“I actually used to go to church,” he explained. “As a kid. I hadn’t thought about it in a while.”

The reporters looked at each other with confused smiles.

“The Bible… it’s got some good stuff in it.”

He didn’t register what they said next. Ecclesiastes. The book of Ecclesiastes.

The people behind him were talking louder to get his attention. One tried to grab him, but he brushed them off and stepped away. Ecclesiastes… no one wanted to talk about that one. But he understood it. No one else seemed to get it.

He heard a scream, but wasn’t sure where it came from. Or why anyone would bother, anyway?

“Meaningless.” That was the word. The verse he had memorized. “Meaningless! Meaningless!”

The other kids in his youth group — the whole church, really — were scared to really talk about it. They kept trying to give it a positive spin, not willing to really take it in. It didn’t have to be scary. It was beautiful.

The people below him. Their outfits. Their pets that they were walking. The cars they were driving. The imperfect sidewalk, with its cracks and ancient gum.

It rose up to meet him. It was beautiful.

“oh dear.”

the heads turned to me, one by one. had i spoken aloud? the speaker was looking at me strangely, his hand still raised midair and pointed at the screen, so it seemed i had.

“did you have something to say, mr. clock?” the speaker asked.

well i had to say something now, didn’t i?

“i guess i do. i’ve just realized that i was supposed go convince george washington to accept his presidency today.” i pulled out my stopwatch, a simple thing made out of aztec gold. vintage, as the kids these days would call it.

“i’m sorry?”

i shook my head ruefully. “so am i, darius. i hope i won’t be too late to the dinner or else none of you might exist in a few moments!” i twisted the knob on the stopwatch located precisely 37 degrees clockwise of the 0000 exactly four and a half times.

“mr. clock, i’m not sure what you’re saying—“

“yes, of course you don’t. well, good luck with everything, everyone!” and all was sucked into a pinpoint located somewhere in the distance ahead, and i closed my eyes for the ride.

The woman stared up ahead at the man announcing the conference. He began on about the work environment but the girls mind was elsewhere.

She was watching his mouth move, but she wasn’t hearing anything. The only thing she was thinking at the moment, was ‘oh fuck..’.

The woman abruptly got up, and her chair scraped against the floor dramatically, anticipating more attention than intended.

She rushed to her bag, leaving the table in a hurry and dismissing the man who stood in disbelief. “What’s this about?” He asked, angrily. She could see the way his face became red, it would’ve been hilarious if he didn’t follow up with, “if you walk out that door, you’re fired.”

But, she did it anyway.

“Where are you going, this conference could cost you your job?” The receptionist asked as the woman began to run down the corridor.

“I left my oven on.”