Post It Note

postit-1975188_1920

Reminder; my birthday today! Take snacks into work. Try to be social. Smile, it’s a happy day!

Advertisements

Smash #TwitteringTales

broken-1391025_1280

Fred arrived at work to see broken glass and a spider web crack across the door. Someone had tried to break into the Pawn Shop again but this time they hadn’t got in.

Opening the door, the large German Shepard dog came out to greet him. It was the best thing he’d ever been pawned.

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2019/05/21/twittering-tales-137-21-may-2019/ with thanks).

Monday

alarm-814507_1920

It was Monday morning again. She lay in bed, having slept badly due to all the troubling thoughts. The alarm went and she turned it off. No work again today, she was too tried to face the world. She wondered if there was anything worth living for now.

Noise

background-313415_1280

Debbie paused from typing up her report and looked around the office. Everyone was busy working. There was the low mutter of voices and the beat of music coming from the turned down radio.

There was also something else; a high pitched whining sound. It reminded her of the sound of the cleaning drill at the dentist.

She turned to a neighbouring colleague, ‘do you hear that whining sound?’ Debbie asked.

‘What sound? I don’t hear anything.’

The phone ring and the colleague answered it.

Debbie shook her head but she carried on hearing the sound.

She checked her PC and those of her neighbours, she turned the radio on and off, asked around the office and tried hard to find the source of the noise but couldn’t located it.

Leaving the office, the sound was still whining in her ears. Debbie crossed the car park and looked over the road, there were builders digging.

Debbie turned and walked over to them till she could see clearer that one of the builders had a scanning device.

‘It runs right here!’ that builder called, ‘mark it up!’

Debbie sighed, the noise was solved. She wasn’t going insane after all.

Alexithymia Dear Diary #atozchallenge

organizer-791939_1920

Alexithymia; An inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner.

Dear Diary,

I had the results of the test back today and at the age of thirty-one, I can finally put a name to my many issues; I’m autistic.

I feel pretty torn over it because on one hand, I’m like yeah that explains why I am like I am, my brain works differently from other peoples’ but that’s okay because you’ve survived this long and you can now have help if you need it.

On the other hand, I’m like oh my God. What I’m going to do now? I’ve got this label over me and it’s not good. How can I explain it to people, will people’s opinions change of me? My whole world just got thrown out of the window and how can I now carry on living with this news?

So, yeah. I’ve all this stuff in my head now but of course I’m struggling to express it or understand it. It’s like I’m not bothered, it’s a fact I have autism, can’t change that so no point freaking about it. It’ll take me awhile to accept but I will.

The specialist said learning more about it could help and also figuring out what kind of support the university and work could give me.

Am I going to let this stop me getting my computer games design degree? No! I just have another thing as well as being a woman in a male dominated industry to deal with but that makes me more determined then ever to prove I can make something I love and dream about a reality.

 

(This is a fictional story)

(Join in the challenge here; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Cotton #FridayFictioneers

The cotton mills of Manchester, England, had once been a chaos of noise, sights and smells. The machines had roared, drowning everything else out and making the workers deaf. Dust and chemicals had rose thickly, settling into workers lungs and slowly suffocating them. Accidents and deaths were a daily occurrence. Thus, was the price the poor paid to try and survive.

Now, the great mills that had been the body of Manchester were silent. They stood rotting or demolished, an empty tomb in memory of those poor souls who had worked themselves to death.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/03/27/29-march-2019/ with thanks).

Roses #FridayFictoneers

I came home, exhausted after a full day in court trying to convince everyone my client wasn’t a murderer. Sadly, he was but it was my job to try and get his sentence reduced.

Dumping my stuff, I sank onto the sofa, kicked off my high heels and wrapped myself around a large cushion. I felt like I could sleep forever.

Something glittery caught my eye. Sunlight was falling on the glass roses my husband had brought for Valentine’s day. I couldn’t help but smile, at least somethings weren’t bad.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/02/20/22-february-2019/ with thanks).

 

 

Sneeze

startup-594090_1920

Back to the office today and Rose was all ready feeling unwell. Pausing in her work, she listened to the background sounds of people coughing, sneezing and sniffling. Rose signed and sipped her coffee.

From somewhere behind her, a woman’s voice said, ‘Do you want a throat soother?’

‘Go on then,’ a man responded.

Rose cast a look behind her and saw the exchange happen. Turning back to the PC screen she looked at the report but couldn’t focus as her eyes were too tired. Instead, she looked down into her coffee mug and wonder if this was her third or fourth cup.

‘Post is here!’ someone called.

There was a mutter of voices and some people got up too eager to wait for things to be delivered to their desks.

Pretending to get back to work, it wasn’t until things landed in her in the in-tray, that Rose looked up again. She shuffled through the few letters and found a late Christmas card from a client in America.

Not wanting to be reminded that Christmas was over, Rose shoved it into her desk draw. She finished her coffee and trying to fight off the coming illness got back to the report.

Toy Factory #CCC

farm stuff CCC5

In the old days, Santa’s elves worked in pretty wooden sheds but now they worked in metal walled factories. The world’s population of children had become too much for the simpler times and with improvements in technology, the choice had been made to allow production to be faster, better and tripled.

Santa walking around the large conveyor belts and machinery on inspection missed the old days. Before the smell of candy canes, fires, newly sawed wood and paint hung in the air. Now it was all oil, smoke, warm plastic and metallic tang.

‘Are you happy elves?’ Santa asked them.

‘Yes, sir!’  cheery voices shouted, ‘we’re not stressed or tried anymore. There’s more time for creating, planning and double checking now.’

Santa nodded, he believed them but he also knew that in their hearts, just like his, they did missing the wooden workshops. Moving with the times had to be done though.

 

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2018/12/12/crimsons-creative-challenge-5/ with thanks).

Working Air #TwitteringTales

It was a crazy idea, an office set up outside wouldn’t work! Mr.Cooper believed his team would be more productive without the ‘shackled desk’ atmosphere. It did improve things for awhile but then it rained and nobody wanted to work outside anymore.

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/10/09/twittering-tales-105-9-october-2018/ with thanks).