Welcome to my writing world. Sit back with a hot drink and enjoy a few minutes somewhere other than where you are now.
⏱️ Read time: ~2 mins
🏷️ Genre: Contemporary Flash Fiction
💢 Content warning: None
This was originally written for the 8 Days of Ether challenge by Ether Books and it was available to read on their app. Sadly Ether is no more.
The Meeting
Stressed -22 Nov
I was stuck in the meeting from hell. Fourteen people in a room. Most of us had no real reason to be there other than the corporate culture of holding meetings for too many people.
I hid a yawn behind my hand and scanned the faces. Eight of us from the technical team, three team leaders, two project managers and one software manager. The software manager and the two project managers were embroiled in a heavy debate about the latest testing strategy.
The rest of us were their audience.
Lucky us.
The clock said 17:35.
Bloody hell. I had somewhere to be in precisely forty minutes. If I didn’t leave in the next ten, I wouldn’t make it.
I could feel myself getting fidgety. I shifted in my chair and took a deep breath. The debate continued. The minutes dragged on. I exhaled a soft sigh, and one of the project managers glanced at me. Their conversation was painfully slow. The minutes were ticking by painfully fast.
Now it was 17:41.
I needed to leave in four minutes. Or else. My annoyance was increasing with every second that passed. I shifted in my chair again. Then I closed my logbook. I folded my arms and stared at the software manager. Hard.
He didn’t notice.
17:43.
I raised my eyes to the ceiling and resisted the urge to stand up and walk out. They were showing no signs of finishing.
I’m not doing this again. I thought to myself, my anger simmering. I’m not wasting my life like this, and I’m not going to come to any more of these stupid meetings.
17:45.
I watched the second-hand on the clock. I wanted to yell at someone. I wanted to pick up my logbook, slam it down on the table and shout, We’re DONE here, people!
I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to miss it through no fault of my own. Jesus.
17:46.
“OK everyone,” said the software manager, “I think that’s enough for tonight. We’ll go through this in more detail tomorrow, but right now I just want to talk briefly about the new graduates we’re bringing in.”
My patience snapped.
“I’m sorry Jim,” I said, getting to my feet, “I’ve got to go.”
My voice was higher in pitch than usual. My heart was pounding. If I didn’t get out, I was going to punch someone.
“No problem, see you tomorrow,” said Jim waving me away. “Now, the graduates are starting on the first of the month…”
It felt like a songbird had broken free from its cage inside my body and flown up into the blue. I walked out of the room into the cooler air of the open-plan office.
Bye bye, suckers.
I dumped my logbook on my desk, snatched up my bag from the floor and headed for the nearest exit before anyone could stop me.
The air outside smelled of freshly cut grass.
17:48
If I rushed, I might just make it.
I really hated missing my spin class.
