oneshots

The Note.

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10:37 pm

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The diligent little digital clock on my desk had beeped about an hour earlier but was rendered unattended by an incessant clicking sound emanating from my keyboard.

A heap of files lay lifelessly alongside sticky notes invading my workspace.

Gosh I've been working for an hour and half overtime.

I raise my eyes to take a look around my workplace only for my orbs to be met with bitter darkness.
All the lights have been turned off except mine and every other seat left vacant to be consumed by loneliness for yet another cold night.

Where did the few employees working overtime by my side suddenly vanish?

I briskly notice a light flickering for a fraction of a second near the Room 2.
Before it altogether darkened in the area.
No, I believe someone just turned the tubelight off.

Recently there have been many cases of theft and burglary in the city.
Not that I directly know of any.

The source of light footsteps confound me now as I hear the sound of faint steps around me.

I'm certain that there is someone else with me in this room.

I hurriedly stuff whatever I could grab into my bag.. Papers, pens and the broken hairclip on the edge of my desk.
One push by my fumbly knuckles causes the clip to fall over the desk resulting in a crisp reverberating sound.
I place my palm on my chest restraining my heart lest it shall burst forth.

As I bend down to pick it up, my body freezes at the touch of a warm hand on my shoulder.

After a moment of fright, I turn my head backwards in a glitch-like motion;
Only to see Mrs. Green putting on one of her best smiles.

"Working overtime huh", she raises an eyebrow at me.

"y...yeah", I manage to secretly catch my breath.

"Well I advise you to go home now, nights aren't for the ladies."

"Certainly", I slightly nod at her.
Mrs. Green is just another nosy senior who thinks all the world except her needs to grow up into her narrow minded expectations.

Nevertheless, she swiftly walks ahead swindling away her buttocks.
She seems to be taking a stroll around the office.

I thereby sigh out of relief and walk out of the office with my bag choked between my rigid arms as I fish out one of the cigarettes in my purse.
Only cigarette.
No lighter.
Why?
Because I am trying to quit smoking.

My dry lips, purplish from the unusual cold night temperature now hold the tiny rolled piece of paper firmly while my phone buzzes.
Him again?

As I cross another street leading to only four more walkable blocks to where my apartment was, I pick up his third call after little hesitation.

*yeah what is it? *

*Hello*

*Say*

*that... I'm... I'm not gonna be home tonight.*

*What? Again? *

*silence*

*why am I surprised! Sure you do that. *