Trival Fictions

Overtime

Yet another, 18 hours of my life went down competing around this shit. Thanks to my boss, I'm doing overtime again.

He makes sure I'm never left alone. He makes sure that I'm accompanied by him every alternate day.

Yes, I stay back here every alternate day, completing some unnecessary stuff and serving him.

Now, if you think I'm paid well, then no I'm not, and I can't even resign, it will take me forever to find another one.

It's the fifth time he called me and asked for a cold coffee, and this will continue till 5 am.

He needs to be stopped.

For some people, cold words are enough.

And for some you need to turn into a ice.

He smiled at me as he brushed his hand over my fingers while getting the glass from me.

I was expected to smile back, and that is what I did.

I turned around as he took a sip.

"You can leave in 25-30 minutes,"

"Sure," I said nodding. "Let the ice melt, coffee will taste better, and so will my life,"

"Umm, okay thanks," he chuckled.

I went on to continue my work, when the landline rang again, lifting my head, I waved at the cripple and walked off.