This week’s prompts were as follows:
Sinister :: minty-fresh :: Seoul :: Add to Cart :: Gold
And here’s what I made of them.
Power Play
‘Good morning!’ Kyung-Soon said as she strode past his cubicle, already halfway out of her coat. ‘My goodness, you’re in early today. You must be vying for my job, Gary!’ As always, as soon as she was finished speaking she let out a loud giggle. He never knew, exactly, what she was so amused by. This morning, her laughter was like water bubbling over out of a saucepan on a too-hot stove – uncontrollable, slightly frightening, and noisy. He quickly minimised his internet browser, switching instead to his Amazon homepage. Last search: ‘Gold: The Best of Spandau Ballet’. For something to do, he clicked ‘Add to Cart’. He tried to look busy.
‘Yeah!’ he chuckled back. ‘Just – you know. A good start is half the battle, and all that.’ She muttered something inaudible, but which sounded friendly, over her shoulder as she thumped her way across the thick carpet which led to her office. For such a small woman, she sure made a lot of noise. When she wanted to.
He licked his top lip, and found it tasted like salt. Was he sweating? Could she tell? I don’t even have a Kleenex in my drawer to wipe my stupid face with, he thought. He hopped up from his chair, intending to go to the toilet and see what colour his face had turned, and if there was anything visible in his eyes. As soon as he got to his feet, though, there she was, striding out of her office again, all raw silk blouse and pencil skirt, minty-fresh breath and stiletto heel. A daughter of Seoul, golden-skinned, hair so dark it sucked at your eyes. He felt his throat close over as he watched her approach.
‘Gary, would you mind running these documents down to the filing room, please? I know it’s not your job, strictly, and I am sorry, but…’
‘Sure, Kyung-Soon,’ he said, cutting her off. She blinked, drawing her head back like he’d spat in her face. After a second, she grinned, but only a little. ‘Sure, it’s no problem to do that for you. I’d be happy to,’ he continued, trying to speak slowly and softly. Remembering to smile.
‘Thanks, Gary,’ she replied, carefully, handing him a bundle of paperwork. ‘That’d be wonderful.’ She nodded, frowning slightly, and started to turn back to her office. He watched her go, and his decision was made in a split second. Run for it now, do the stupid job she wants, hurry back to the desk, she’ll never know. If he hesitated at his computer now, she’d twig something was up, and the next thing he knew he’d have IT Services on his back. He clutched the stack of papers like a policeman’s baton, and made a sprint for the elevator doors.
As the gentle ping sounded to tell him the doors were about to open, something caught his eye; instinctively, he turned, looking back at his cubicle. Even though on some level he knew the game was up, he almost vomited when he saw her, perched in front of his computer screen, sitting side-saddle on his swivel chair. Her long legs curved out in front of his desk drawers. Even from twenty feet away, he heard the sharp intake of her breath.
She’d found the site. He couldn’t read it from here, but he knew, from memory, what she’d be looking at right now. The homepage, with its rolling banner headline, and the eyecatching images – once seen, never forgotten. The Sinister Scourge of Immigration! Foreigners Out! And there was worse, too. All she had to do was click through a few pages to find out what they wanted to do with foreign women. Asian women, like her.
She turned to face him, already half on her feet. Behind him, the doors popped open, sliding apart with a silky hiss. Her mouth was open, and the scream starting, as she rounded his desk, bumping her hip against it as she went. She almost turned her heel, but she kept going.
Gary threw the papers into the elevator and was already running as Kyung-Soon started to sprint for her office, where her desk was, with her direct-dial telephone to the security booth. The thick carpet snagged at her spindly heels, almost like millions of tiny pale hands trying their hardest to drag her down. She didn’t stop.
SJ O'Hart 