2021 English Short Stories

Paper Birds

Buildings shadowed the bright and brave sun that would normally be winking at me with its beams and blinding my vision. It was only when I reached the oversized automatic sliding doors of the entrance, that the cool breeze reached my skin. As I travelled in the plain sliver box to the top floor, my imagination ran wild. Imagination is intelligence. With it you can see every perspective and triangulate truth. Imagination is part of what builds me, for when I am free in that mode, when I am in the creative stream, I become a better version of myself.

I always dreamed of working in a creative environment, although when I got the call that the Evergreen Times needed a new writer, I quickly jumped on the opportunity. As a ding of a bell sounded, the shiny silver doors opened and I entered the room only for it to fall silent, as a dim shadow of a tall figure stood tall in the middle of the oak wood frame door. Normally a phone call before 9:30am means you're out; otherwise, you can make your way into the office. Today, the whole company were called into the office for a team meeting, I arrived ten minutes prior to chat amongst each other.

It was clear to everyone, it was about the lack of work being progressed, readers dropping day after day. As the sun directs us all to come and take a seat, her stern face looks around the room until her gaze meets with my nervous scattering eyes. Eye contract triggered my anxiety, it was like someone was searching through my soul. Reaching in deeper and deeper as the stare grew longer dragging on.

Our eyes were connected for what seemed long enough for her to scratch my heart to pieces. Tiny pieces that fall slowly to the ground, then disappear into the slim cracks of smoky grey carpet. That sat placed carefully on the twelve floors. Upon the roof come the playful sounds of dancing drops as her eyes slowly returned to a wide gaze around the room. As quick as the sun burns, her mouth opened and began dragging on about the company problems.

The woman was ordinary, plain clothes, plain speaking, but direct. "If you're not sure if I'm talking to you or not, listen to this. Our readers are dropping, I understand that the town is small, but we need to find the juicy secrets that each bar speaks." Once again, I began to daydream.

Watching as she adjusted the broach on her blazer and sat down at the end of the reclaimed wood desk, it was the focus point of the office design, they claimed 'it spoke to the soul'. It was only when I heard my name I began to listen. My heart sank, is this what I get for everything I have given. A goodbye.