“Mundane mundane…can’t trust that day,” he sang the words, sotto voce, a fractured ear worm that always flooded his brain the minute he stepped off the elevator and paced down the hall to his cubicle.
He thought that during the pandemic and quarantine, he’d gotten over doing the same old job in the same old office setting; when restrictions lifted and everybody went back to the office, he’d felt a sense of renewal.
The woman watching cat videos while she waited for her data to be available, the other clipping her fingernails just over the cubicle walls, the portly, bearded, frequent snacker who licked his fingertips with a kissing relish after each bite, the guy at the other end of the office (super nice, but…) who should’ve been a DJ with that carrying bass voice, and the nervous supervisor who skittered in on her leopard-print high heels and black pencil skirts, and caused everyone to stop what they were doing to look busy, had been missed during the three long years of quarantine.
It had added the non-piquant thrill of vanilla to the plain vanilla that was his job; flavorful but not distracting. But all too soon, the thrill was gone, and there was that earworm, and he couldn’t help singing it, low and in time to his keystroke tapping.
But really, what else was there, outside of this career he’d chosen fresh out of college, when he should have known better than to play it safe?
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “MUNDANE”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Story