My entry for JJ's Flash Fiction Friday #15 . . .
The champagne cork was on the floor and in her hand was her trusted cell phone. No new messages, the familiar woman's voice had reported. She wasn't surprised.
It was a shame, though. A new job in a new city and everyone too busy to celebrate or even notice. Well that wasn't really fair. Mother had sent a card, one of the generic ones she kept in her roll-top desk, splattered with ROY G BIV balloons and a Congratulations scrawled in gold. The women in bridge club must just love receiving cards like this one.
She had decided to take the moment upon herself, and had stopped on her first day for a bottle of the stuff she couldn't afford while in law school. None of her boxes unpacked, she bought a plastic glass - actually, 50 of them - from the grocery store. And a potted ivy. Setting down new roots, after all.
She poured another full glass and pulled at her pearl necklace, wondering when she would finally own a strand that wouldn't feel smooth against her teeth. She looked at the cell again and chastized herself for her dependence. Maybe he forgot the start date, she told herself.
She finished the lukewarm champagne and smiled with some satisfaction at her new surroundings.
There was a knock.
"Ms. Jones?" a woman's voice said through the heavy oak.
She straightened her jacket and smoothed her lipstick with her forefinger. "Yes?"
The office door opened. "There's a call for you on line one."
The champagne cork was on the floor and in her hand was her trusted cell phone. No new messages, the familiar woman's voice had reported. She wasn't surprised.
It was a shame, though. A new job in a new city and everyone too busy to celebrate or even notice. Well that wasn't really fair. Mother had sent a card, one of the generic ones she kept in her roll-top desk, splattered with ROY G BIV balloons and a Congratulations scrawled in gold. The women in bridge club must just love receiving cards like this one.
She had decided to take the moment upon herself, and had stopped on her first day for a bottle of the stuff she couldn't afford while in law school. None of her boxes unpacked, she bought a plastic glass - actually, 50 of them - from the grocery store. And a potted ivy. Setting down new roots, after all.
She poured another full glass and pulled at her pearl necklace, wondering when she would finally own a strand that wouldn't feel smooth against her teeth. She looked at the cell again and chastized herself for her dependence. Maybe he forgot the start date, she told herself.
She finished the lukewarm champagne and smiled with some satisfaction at her new surroundings.
There was a knock.
"Ms. Jones?" a woman's voice said through the heavy oak.
She straightened her jacket and smoothed her lipstick with her forefinger. "Yes?"
The office door opened. "There's a call for you on line one."
22 Comments:
nice! i particularly like the "ms. jones" bit. probably because that's my last name. ;)
you say so much with so little words- great storytelling abilities.
:) sizzle
sweet. nuff said.
True story?
Very well written either way...I subbed the wine for a beer while I was reading though. I had an unfortunate incident with many many glasses of wine and haven't been the same since.
Wait. She's drinking at work? She is on the babyjewels career track, I see.
Tell us more. I'm intrigued.
Since alcohol definitely heightens creativity, why don't more companies encourage it? Like my company, especially in the art department. Must do more research on this...
Very well done, Mamma! Me likey!
:-)
Don't take this the wrong way, but you may be a drunk. I'm just saying.
Cell phone dependency... email dependency... we're creating a whole new breed of people who need help!
And to think that Mama said that she couldn't write my novel for me! :( Said novel has begun this evening and is absolute crap. May stay in the dregs of my computer forever (or until my lack of paid for virus software catches up with the computer!)
Ciao!
So much tension from so few words. Absolutely brilliant!! No wonder I have to keep coming back.
Thanks for the comment, or I would have never found you... and now that I've read... what a shame that would be.
Love the story. I'm pretty sure that I could never write fiction, so I will choose to live vicariously through you and give myself a hearty pat on the back. :)
I love how the champagne represents life, and the phone represents hell. It's really quite a wonderful story. ;)
Seriously, Miss Kris, this is excellent.
OF course, why would I expect anything less.
Not enough Bombay puns, though.
you should make some blog money after this post! its magnificant!
kris,
this post made me want to have several drinks and send you dirty emails.
Great story! & thanks for stopping by :-)
Also submitted something for FFF. I hope I don't cramp your style.
The 50 plastic glasses was a nice touch.
can't wait to see where this goes!
Sidebar: Krissy-poo, is that you in the sidebar? I love the picture regardless, but if it IS you, that's awesome.
Oh, by the way, I love your blog! ;)
Your fabulousness is once again confirmed...
Nice story, I like that it's just a slice, but it's easy to imagine the rest of her life. Nice touch with the pearls on the teeth.
Cheers.
lots of nice touches (to reiterate after so many comments would be silly).
walk good.
If Todd gets to send you dirty emails, I do too.
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