An Ordinary Life

I wanted to enjoy these meetings, but the only thing I can think of is how desirable my blanket and bed seem to me now. I would like to crash onto feathers and fluff, except my body plops itself down onto a chair. I hit my elbow on the edge of the desk and who knew wood could make my bone throb inside?

I’m always early so at least I can gather a few moments of time for myself before the team arrives. The Boss makes us all look presentable, which is something I’m not inclined to disagree with, although I can hardly find the possibility of looking exactly as I looked while coming to school this morning. It would be easier if she could look the other way and pretend not to notice the smudges on the outside of my glasses or the wrinkles on my shirt that I tried so hard to smooth down. So much effort lost on my appearance when it’s my work that’s supposed to count the most.

Sometimes, I truly think the universe wants to disgrace me. The moments when the Boss berates me for bringing myself in such a dishevelled state are the very moments when the Traveler finds pleasure in stroking my temper. After handling the Boss’s derogatory comments, I have to lash out at the Traveler for mocking my bleary eyes, my slouched posture, my lack of enthusiasm, apparently. If the Boss isn’t busy being my mother, she’s likely to promote the Traveler from a lowly writer, such as myself, to her right hand man! Those two could run the team as a partnership and cast the rest of us out to fend for ourselves.

I am willing to admit, though, that the Boss does take on a mentor-like role despite her conniving facade. She taught me that talent goes a long way, but treachery can take us farther. After all, look how far she got. She’s the Boss. She’s walking towards me right now, and it’s no surprise that the Traveler enters seconds later.

They think me their prey, but I will prove to them that there are bigger predators than the foxes that they are –

“Zaina, please tie your shoelaces! This time both of them are untied, how do you think this makes us look?”

Her eyes are glazed and emotionless dots of black on white. She doesn’t know I left my shoelaces untied on purpose; this woman doesn’t need any more good repute.

“Tying them right now, ma’am,”