The first thing she found herself craving was ice cream. It was weird but she couldn’t get enough, even at 3AM when she should have been sleeping. She had her excuses though and blamed the fact that she was going to have a summer baby.
I had no idea what the person next to me was doing. In fact, I had no idea what anyone in this office or even building was doing. It was a strange thought and one that had not even dawned on me before.
I looked around, taking in the long rows of desks, the tops of computers and stacks of papers. Someone was sat at every desk, typing or writing away, their heads mainly down. There was a low murmur of voices, tapping keys, scrabbling of phones and churning of machinery. Around the walls of the room rose the bookcases. They were packed with multi-colored book covers and contained all the knowledge of the world, from start to finish.
How long had I been working here now? Five, six, seven years? And not once had I thought to find out what this company was and what the other workers did. There had never seem to be any need though. I had always known my job and just got on with it. The awareness of everyone else had been there, but I guess I had never really noticed.
I peered over at the person to my right. It was a woman and she was busy tapping on a laptop. There were books, paper and pens scattered on her desk. She ignored me, either not realising I was watching or not caring. She was working on a research piece about monkeys, something which I could link to my own work.
I turned to the left and looked at the man there. His desk seemed the same as the woman’s, only he had no laptop and busy handwriting notes. There were many large books open before him. He was writing about monkeys in films. Once again, he didn’t seem to care I was watching him.
I got up and slowly made my way around the room. Everyone was researching and writing about something different and yet it all connected together. Finally, I concluded that we were working on a complete history of Earth’s animals. Each person had been given a different animal and subject matter which at first seemed a little out of place, but was actually a piece of the jigsaw we were creating.
I went back to my desk. My thoughts really awake for the first time.
The cave hadn’t seemed a welcoming place to spend the night, but he’d no choice. Entering slowly and flashing his torch around, Brad made his way along. The cave seemed naturally made in the side of the mountain range and not well traveled.
He paused and looked over his shoulder at the mouth of the cave. Rain was hammering down and large puddles spread across the floor whilst the wild wind blew a tune across the rocks. Night was also coming fast and with being unable to put up his tent safely, he was lucky to have find this shelter.
Brad didn’t feel grateful though. This cave wasn’t marked on the map he had been following and it was by pure change he had noticed the curving of the rock face. Walking on again, he looked for a good place to stop, but the ground looked too wet. Sighing, he carried on, thinking about how much he’d really had enough of this hiking trip.
Heading further into the cave, Brad passed by amazing features; stalactite and stalagmites growing to meet each other, pools of clear water, shining quartz and green oxidation patches along the walls. He was deep in thought when he stumbled over something.
Swearing loudly, Brad bent to rub his leg and catch his breath. Shinning his torch on the floor, he saw it wasn’t actually a rock he had tripped on but a large metal box. Puzzled, he knelt down, shrugging off his hiking bag. He felt along the lid of the box then easily opened it.
The shine of cans met his eyes. Brad frowned and rummaged through the box. Labels showed that all the tins were food and there must have been over a hundred of them. Mumbling the strangeness of this, Brad stood up and shone his torch further down. The ends of metal shelves placed against both walls of the cave flashed up.
Walking on, he began to inspect the items on the shelves and open more metal boxes on the floor. It wasn’t until he found a book about nuclear war that he realised what he had discovered.
The wooden back of a huge pocket watch had stood in the corner of the town’s park for hundreds of years. The origins of it had long been lost, but the myth was that the pocket watch had once belonged to a giant.
The giant Haldor was running late for the yearly Giants Together meeting. As he trod over a village, ignoring the fleeing of little people far below him, he drew out his pocket watch and checked the time. Seeing, he was going to be very late indeed, he hurriedly put the watch back into his pocket.
However, he missed and the watch hit the floor. Angrily, he bent to pick it up and swiped down two cottages as he did so. Hurrying on, he didn’t notice that his pocket watch had broken in the fall.
Years later, a shepherd lad was searching for a lost lamb when he came across the back of the pocket watch. He stared up in awe at the huge wooden circle then spotting his lamb nearby, he hurried to collect her. When he returned home, he told his father about what he had seen, for the lad was too young to remember the giant Haldor. His father clearly recalled the day though.
And that was how the myth of the giant’s pocket watch began.
In the mornings, he would sit in the tree and watch the village. At lunchtime he would come down, visit three houses for lunch then curl up somewhere warm and quiet for the afternoon. In the evenings, he strolled around till late then mewed at doors till someone let him in.
Jasper loved money. There was something comforting and reassuring about the feel of coins in his hands. He liked the weight and the coldness which quickly became warm. The sounds the coins made as they clinked together or on to things was music to his ears.
He marvelled at all the different designs there were on the backs of coins from all over the world. He enjoyed watching the British Queen’s face changing through the years, the USA Presidents switching around and special editions for events like the Olympics.
Coins was not were it ended though, Jasper also enjoyed paper notes. He liked the rustle sounds of them, the feel between his fingers and the oily printing smell of them. He hung on to notes that were crisp from the machines, not parting with them till he had no choice.
Jasper’s collection was huge and though it took over his house, he wouldn’t give it up for the world. He had perfectly fitted cabinets and drawers made to protect and store the money. The most valuable coins and notes lived in numerous safes hidden in the walls, floors and ceilings.
Even his job in involved money handling! Jasper would hurry to the bank five times a week and carry out his role as a finical accountant manger. He loved watching money roll in and out of accounts and the stock market changing. Sometimes he would go into the vault and look at what was on display down there.
However, he loved home time when he could return to his collections and study his coins in greater detail.
When Larry had got the job he hadn’t expected his office to be so small. He told himself it was only temporary and he’d be promoted soon enough. However, five years had now past and he was still stuck in this closet they classed as an office.
Sitting at his desk which was hard because his knees banged against it, Larry wondered what to do. A part of him wanted to quit but the more sensible part knew it wasn’t worth it. The job paid very well and the hours were good to, but how much long could he put up with being inside this room?
He looked around at the orange walls, done to try and make the room brighter and warmer. There were no windows, only a single door and beside from his desk and chair there was nothing else in the room. There wasn’t space for anything more really! And even the desk was pushing it.
Larry looked out of the door which he always kept open to let some air and general background noise in. He couldn’t see much, other then part of a dividing white screen and the edge of a filing cabinet.
He knew though that all the offices on this floor were just the same as his. Many of the other workers also kept their doors open and when he past by he would catch snatches of conversations. He had never talk to anyone in these rooms though. There was never the need to.
He would often talk with the women receptionist and admins though. Their desks were all in the long corridor outside of his door. He welcomed their chatty voices and tapping of keys as it made him feel not so lonely. Sometimes he would go out and ask one of them for a file or a pen, just to stretch his poor legs and break up the monotony.
I should quit, he thought as he tapped a pencil on the edge of his desk, I’m worth more then this!