I'm Coming!

Apply generously, but evenly, then blot lips with dampened paper towel. Finish with lip brush, filling in where needed. Touch up with gloss then blot lips. Lick. Blot again.

They looked slippery, man-made, like nothing that could ever naturally appear on a human body. Like the wet side of a chewy, fruit candy. What else feels like this? Who wouldn't twist in ecstasy with these sucking on them?

-"Hurry up! They're here!"

-"One second!" Terrance said, giving his half-opened mouth one final hit of gloss before easing down the stairs.

Night Run

He walks decidedly straight, keeping a measured, unhurried pace, his face taking on a blank, smart look. At 11:30pm, through an immigrant patch of town by the train tracks, going for a walk demands extra considerations. Does he put the headphones on full blast or will that drown out any would-be mugger, encroaching from behind? How deep into the rougher parts does he commit to walking through? The idea is to enjoy himself in what should be a thoughtless, casual pursuit. One of the few old world acts that - in principle - should come easily, impromptu; a nighttime walk.

He heard about this place from friends, none of which had been there themselves. He crossed the street, taking notice of idling cars with tinted windows and faraway shouting. John lowered his volume and didn't rush across.

Round and Round

Josh sat dumb before the email response. Less than a month in and he found himself standing in for his boss, the unexpectedly absent Tom Corliss, Manager of Sales. With deadline tomorrow he wondered how his Manager decides to take a day. He imagined every bullshit excuse and grizzly possibility but his email to Tom, asking what the final sponsor deliverables were, remained unanswered.

Where was that spreadsheet? He barely knew where to look for it in the labyrinthine sharedrive, much less begin to request sponsor logos, design and save the template into a printable draft, email it to the publishing facility for quick turnaround, edit the print, OK it for final publication and fire off a bill with a scanned, executed, very late contract. Could he even sign for Tom? What were the sizing specs, again? Tom should have done this weeks ago and yet there was so much Josh didn't know. There was so much he didn't know he didn't know.

So he sat there, knowing that in the next two minutes no cavalry of useful information would come. Josh didn't deny the shitty day ahead. He simply tried to enjoy the spare, early moments of the morning still untouched by the coming onslaught. He read it once again.

“Received Using: Desktop (Secure)

Folder: Inbox

Message Status: Opened

To: Joshua McPherson (GSVX)

From: Thomas Corliss (GSVX)

Out of Office AutoReply:

Sponsor Logo Question

Oct 20, 2009 9:03AM

I will be out of the office on October 20, 2009 with no access to email. Your messages will be forwarded to Joshua McPherson, Sales Coordinator. He will address any questions you may have.

Thanks,

Tom"

Josh's phone rings, listing an unfamiliar area code. Definitely not an internal line, nor anyone from the satellite offices. He lets it go to voicemail. The phone rings again immediately after. Same number. He picks up.

"Hello. This is Josh. No, he's not in today, but I can answer any questions you might have for him."