Picture This

Chapter 2

     The soft sound of rain pattering against the roof was gentle, growing louder with each second. Outside, the wind howled, making the windows rattle. Dark, angry clouds swirled in the sky, ominous and threatening. The grumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

     I stood next to the printing machine, listening as the ink cartridge swished back and forth. The machine grunted before releasing the paper, and I took it, savoring the warmth of it in my hands.

     I leaned my hip against the wall, reading the words in front of me. I frowned, my eyebrows pulling together as I did so. The report was poorly written, from misspelled words to random typos. Even the word typo was spelled wrong. I couldn't help but clench my hands. There was nothing I could do about it.

     As I left the computer room, I bumped into none other than Ava Taylor. "Kurt." She nodded once, staring at the paper in my hand.

     Great. I stifled a sigh. "Ava now's not really a good time."

     She ignored me, reaching out for the paper instead. "A report huh? I already finished mine. It was super easy. Then again, each case Bob sends me on is always..." Her voice trailed away. She glanced up at me again for a half second before looking down again. But not quick enough for me to notice the smirk on her face. "That's quite a report you have there."

     "It's not mine, it's a colleague's." I snatched it back from her, struggling against a blush. How could she think that I wrote that? I wasn't the disorganized snob that she thought I was.

     Ava shrugged, her dark eyes bright and taunting. "Mhm, sure. I'll see you around Turner." She disappeared.

     Jaw aching, I realized I had clenched it the whole time. I shook my head. It was like she had something against me. What, I didn't know, but it made me mad. What'd I ever do to her?

     I left, going down the hallway and made a right turn before opening a door.

     Bob was sitting at his desk, papers spread everywhere. Feet on the table, he leaned against his seat, talking to someone on his phone. "Look," he said, face turning red. "I don't have anything to say. That's final. Do you hear me?"

     Quietly, I entered the room, sliding papers and other debris off a chair before sitting down. Bob continued to talk, growing more agitated each second. "No! We have nothing to say. Not until we have more details. I don't care what you tell your boss, that's your problem." A pause. "Leave me alone, woman!" Firmly, he yanked the phone away from his ear and tossed it on the table. Almost immediately it began to ring again.

     Muttering under his breath, Bob rubbed his hand against his face, each stroke creating a rasping sound. He closed his eyes for a moment before letting out a tired sigh.

     Now what? I wondered. The polite thing to do was to ask if he was all right, but Bob was different... I shifted in my seat, the wooden chair uncomfortable.

     Before I could say anything, Bob lifted his feet off the table and went through his drawers, rummaging around for a few moments before pulling out a prescription bottle. Unscrewing the top, he shook out a couple of pills and gulped them down with his coffee.

     Awkward silence on my end. I cleared my throat. "Uh, sir?"

     No answer.

     "You wanted to see me?"

     He took in a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. Still no response.

     "Are you okay?" Maybe I shouldn't have popped in just now. My boss seemed worried, kind of out of it. "I can come back later if you need me to..."