So it goes.
Well here's to hoping this works.
The clock ticked louder than it ever had before. The man behind the desk sighed as if looking over the edge of sanity and deciding it wasn’t worth it to go crazy. His nameplate read Edward G. Brookswether, but that wasn’t even his name. His name was Edwin D. Brookswether, and he was turning an unhappy fifty-eight in three days. For thirteen futile years he had for Mason/Dixon National Inc. and it still read the same damn name! The people around his office called him Ed, which suited his real name just fine. But it still burned up his spirit to come in every morning and see the wrong damn name. It was as if his life were so meaningless that no one ever cared to change it, as if his life didn’t even belong to him. After all, he fantasized, Edward G. was a dangerous seducer of movie stars and a rescuer of poor, helpless animals. But of course he always came to as Edwin D. Brookswether (despite what the sign claimed), a slowly balding widower (of sorts) feverishly in love with his boss Holly.
His birthday also marked the passing of his (sort of) ex-wife, Diane. She died on his birthday six years before in a car crash five blocks from their house. She was on her way to serve him papers for their divorce. Three weeks earlier, the night she left him, he had asked for the car. She had told quite primly that he’d have to “pry the keys of her cold dead hand.” In the end that’s what the paramedics did. Oh, The irony.
Holly walked by his desk, awakening him from his musings. Her forty-year-old legs hid their cellulite in a wrap of black nylon. Her magenta skirt suit was shorter than might have been advisable for a woman her age, but it looked all right. Any unforgiving audience would have chastised her bright pink lipstick and blown out beauty school dropout hair, but to Edwin she was divine. He pushed to the cobwebbed corners of his mind the fact that she could easily be his daughter. Well, not easily perhaps. She came into his cubicle and playfully perched on the edge of her desk. She clasped her chipped nail polish hands together.
“Oh Eddie.” she sighed, a unicorn’s neigh of a sigh. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…what are we going to do with you?” she giggled; her laugh was girlish and high-pitched, sweet as cotton candy.
“Give me a raise, Holly. You can always do that,” he said smoothly and slowly, throwing in a smile for a punch line. He was flirting. Flirting! He mentally patted himself on the back. One of these days, he swore, he was going to take her and…
Well, today was not the day. Clearly, it was not the day. How could you ravage someone on a Tuesday? It just wasn’t right. She talked about some report she needed. Edwin simply nodded in time to the movement of her lips. He didn’t catch a single word, but he wasn’t worried. Holly also had a habit of repeating orders more than anyone needed her to. His co-workers grumbled about it in the break room, but of course Ed found it rather endearing. He found everything about her rather endearing, even the lipstick on her teeth but especially her killer legs. She finished her report and sashayed down the hall, not knowing his eyes followed her.
Edwin went home early that night, which was unusual. After all, when Holly asked him to stay late, and she often did, he could never say no. He went home and made himself rice and reheated turkey leftovers. He lay back in his favorite chair, closing his eyes. He was a creature of simple pleasures. He turned to flick on the TV, but stopped and stared at a picture of Diane. A million bitter memories and more, memories of her, now accompanied his birthday. He missed her, in a curious way. He knew that even if the truck hadn’t swerved, she wouldn’t be with him. She had been on her way to kick him out of her life for good. It was a divorce that he hadn’t wanted but had accepted. He sometimes regretted not arguing her out of it, not pushing. But he knew he didn’t want to live with that unhappy look in her eyes she’d worn for the last 8 months of their marriage. Perhaps though, in a twisted way, her dying made him love her more. And he was glad that they had still been married when she died. It still made him want to go to bed early, made him want to call in sick
But he didn’t. Edwin woke up feeling pretty patched up, actually. He drove to work, getting there in record time. Holly pulled into the parking spot next to him, and got out. Suddenly, it was a brand new day. She was wearing his favorite outfit. The most beautiful fairy garment ever made. It was a sky blue dress. No, it was a dress made of the kind of blue the sky could only dream of being. It was wispy pieces of sky sewn together to fit her just right. It was a steaming smoking piece of beautiful. He walked inside quickly, hoping to God he didn’t have an erection. He didn’t, but he felt like it. And that’s what counts.
He walked into the office bewitched and befuddled, and got to his desk. The nameplate still read Edward G. Brookswether. Who the hell is that, he thought? That’s not me. I wouldn’t have ended up like that poor chump in a million years, still working in a job that was a one-way ticket to nowhere fast. That’s when he knew, quite simply. The idea struck him dumb like a hammer. Today was it. The day he’d been salivating over for a million other days. Except it didn’t seem like those days belonged to him. They belonged to Edward G., a nothing with a nothing life. Today he was Edwin D, and he was the seducer and the rescuer. And he was going to rescue himself by seducing. Perfect.
He plotted like a hunter going to make a kill. He turned his computer so that the reflection showed the door of the copy room. And he waited. Finally, he saw his gorgeous Holly go in. He waited ten very long seconds, then slipped in after her.
He made no business about it. He simply put his arm on her shoulder, and when she turned her kissed her. Hard and powerfully, with the passion of a man who gets what he wants. She had never, ever been kissed like that, he knew. He then pulled back, winked and walked out the door.
Or that’s how he would’ve liked it to happen. In reality, the lean in was a little awkward, the kiss a little wet. It was still passionate, just a little bit more timid. It was more like a request than a command. She still smiled when he pulled back though. He left the room in silence, not because he needed no explanation, but because he couldn’t find the words.
He lived the next twenty-four in a blur. He never met Holly’s eyes, but he smirked the whole rest of the day. That night he went to bed late, and read until late, or at least tried to. His words fuzzed around the edges like life. Soft focus reality, he mused.
The next day they had a birthday party for him. The cake read “Happy Birthday Edward!” Everyone gathered together in the break room to sing to him. Holly was up front by the time the song ended. She was standing gloriously in front of him. Even though he had tasted her she still seemed a cherubim. He looked up, and they locked eyes. He winked. Then he blew the candles out.
You can if you want.
The clock ticked louder than it ever had before. The man behind the desk sighed as if looking over the edge of sanity and deciding it wasn’t worth it to go crazy. His nameplate read Edward G. Brookswether, but that wasn’t even his name. His name was Edwin D. Brookswether, and he was turning an unhappy fifty-eight in three days. For thirteen futile years he had for Mason/Dixon National Inc. and it still read the same damn name! The people around his office called him Ed, which suited his real name just fine. But it still burned up his spirit to come in every morning and see the wrong damn name. It was as if his life were so meaningless that no one ever cared to change it, as if his life didn’t even belong to him. After all, he fantasized, Edward G. was a dangerous seducer of movie stars and a rescuer of poor, helpless animals. But of course he always came to as Edwin D. Brookswether (despite what the sign claimed), a slowly balding widower (of sorts) feverishly in love with his boss Holly.
His birthday also marked the passing of his (sort of) ex-wife, Diane. She died on his birthday six years before in a car crash five blocks from their house. She was on her way to serve him papers for their divorce. Three weeks earlier, the night she left him, he had asked for the car. She had told quite primly that he’d have to “pry the keys of her cold dead hand.” In the end that’s what the paramedics did. Oh, The irony.
Holly walked by his desk, awakening him from his musings. Her forty-year-old legs hid their cellulite in a wrap of black nylon. Her magenta skirt suit was shorter than might have been advisable for a woman her age, but it looked all right. Any unforgiving audience would have chastised her bright pink lipstick and blown out beauty school dropout hair, but to Edwin she was divine. He pushed to the cobwebbed corners of his mind the fact that she could easily be his daughter. Well, not easily perhaps. She came into his cubicle and playfully perched on the edge of her desk. She clasped her chipped nail polish hands together.
“Oh Eddie.” she sighed, a unicorn’s neigh of a sigh. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…what are we going to do with you?” she giggled; her laugh was girlish and high-pitched, sweet as cotton candy.
“Give me a raise, Holly. You can always do that,” he said smoothly and slowly, throwing in a smile for a punch line. He was flirting. Flirting! He mentally patted himself on the back. One of these days, he swore, he was going to take her and…
Well, today was not the day. Clearly, it was not the day. How could you ravage someone on a Tuesday? It just wasn’t right. She talked about some report she needed. Edwin simply nodded in time to the movement of her lips. He didn’t catch a single word, but he wasn’t worried. Holly also had a habit of repeating orders more than anyone needed her to. His co-workers grumbled about it in the break room, but of course Ed found it rather endearing. He found everything about her rather endearing, even the lipstick on her teeth but especially her killer legs. She finished her report and sashayed down the hall, not knowing his eyes followed her.
Edwin went home early that night, which was unusual. After all, when Holly asked him to stay late, and she often did, he could never say no. He went home and made himself rice and reheated turkey leftovers. He lay back in his favorite chair, closing his eyes. He was a creature of simple pleasures. He turned to flick on the TV, but stopped and stared at a picture of Diane. A million bitter memories and more, memories of her, now accompanied his birthday. He missed her, in a curious way. He knew that even if the truck hadn’t swerved, she wouldn’t be with him. She had been on her way to kick him out of her life for good. It was a divorce that he hadn’t wanted but had accepted. He sometimes regretted not arguing her out of it, not pushing. But he knew he didn’t want to live with that unhappy look in her eyes she’d worn for the last 8 months of their marriage. Perhaps though, in a twisted way, her dying made him love her more. And he was glad that they had still been married when she died. It still made him want to go to bed early, made him want to call in sick
But he didn’t. Edwin woke up feeling pretty patched up, actually. He drove to work, getting there in record time. Holly pulled into the parking spot next to him, and got out. Suddenly, it was a brand new day. She was wearing his favorite outfit. The most beautiful fairy garment ever made. It was a sky blue dress. No, it was a dress made of the kind of blue the sky could only dream of being. It was wispy pieces of sky sewn together to fit her just right. It was a steaming smoking piece of beautiful. He walked inside quickly, hoping to God he didn’t have an erection. He didn’t, but he felt like it. And that’s what counts.
He walked into the office bewitched and befuddled, and got to his desk. The nameplate still read Edward G. Brookswether. Who the hell is that, he thought? That’s not me. I wouldn’t have ended up like that poor chump in a million years, still working in a job that was a one-way ticket to nowhere fast. That’s when he knew, quite simply. The idea struck him dumb like a hammer. Today was it. The day he’d been salivating over for a million other days. Except it didn’t seem like those days belonged to him. They belonged to Edward G., a nothing with a nothing life. Today he was Edwin D, and he was the seducer and the rescuer. And he was going to rescue himself by seducing. Perfect.
He plotted like a hunter going to make a kill. He turned his computer so that the reflection showed the door of the copy room. And he waited. Finally, he saw his gorgeous Holly go in. He waited ten very long seconds, then slipped in after her.
He made no business about it. He simply put his arm on her shoulder, and when she turned her kissed her. Hard and powerfully, with the passion of a man who gets what he wants. She had never, ever been kissed like that, he knew. He then pulled back, winked and walked out the door.
Or that’s how he would’ve liked it to happen. In reality, the lean in was a little awkward, the kiss a little wet. It was still passionate, just a little bit more timid. It was more like a request than a command. She still smiled when he pulled back though. He left the room in silence, not because he needed no explanation, but because he couldn’t find the words.
He lived the next twenty-four in a blur. He never met Holly’s eyes, but he smirked the whole rest of the day. That night he went to bed late, and read until late, or at least tried to. His words fuzzed around the edges like life. Soft focus reality, he mused.
The next day they had a birthday party for him. The cake read “Happy Birthday Edward!” Everyone gathered together in the break room to sing to him. Holly was up front by the time the song ended. She was standing gloriously in front of him. Even though he had tasted her she still seemed a cherubim. He looked up, and they locked eyes. He winked. Then he blew the candles out.
You can if you want.