the afterthought

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 4 (v.1)

Submitted: February 02, 2011

Reads: 98

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Submitted: February 02, 2011



Wolfing the pizza as she walked, Sharon pushed the occurrence in the deli behind her and focused on how she felt about the pizza she was consuming. Sharon hated eating pizza. It wasn’t that she hated the taste, it was just that what with all that melted greasy cheese, both her face and her hips were going to feel the wrath that a couple of slices could bring. She started to tell herself how she would work off the effects in the gym, and how she would scrub off the effects on her face, in the bathroom. She would buy a special kind of soap or something that would do a better job than she had been in keeping her face clean---no doubt, a new system needed to be applied. And as she grew closer to the Padderting building she let herself slow down a bit, while finishing the crust of the slice she had been chowing down on. 
Wiping her mouth with a couple of the little napkins that were given to her with the slices, she looked up and down the street that she was about to cross, waiting for the coast to be clear. In doing this, she noticed a man walking at a faster, more furious pace than the other people in the sparse crowd. She squinted in the sunny day and as she began to recognize him, he yelled to her. It was the man from the deli. He was in fact carrying a bag which she assumed had the chili in it. He had been following her, urgently, for blocks. This now made her more than uneasy or offended, as the deli event had. Now she was afraid. 
She crossed the street quickly, now holding Mr. Lamont’s tea in one hand and the bag holding the one remaining slice in the other. She was running in her heels and the people coming out of the building paid her no mind, as this was a routine happening around lunch time. The man was a good distance behind her, and knowing this, she moved quickly through the security check and jumped in the first elevator that was open. There were a couple of people in the elevator, but no one that she knew. Recently there had been a couple of new firms that had moved into the building and with them came plenty of people that she didn’t know. One of the new people in the elevator was a young woman near Sharon’s own age, and she made eye contact with Sharon. She smiled and Sharon smiled back, but with her eyes then fixed on the lit numerical floors increasing as they were going up---Sharon looked as if she was almost praying, and the other woman didn’t feel the need to intrude any further than she already had. 
The young woman and her cohort got off at the 16th floor, and this did not help Sharon’s anxiety level at all. Now she felt alone, and she was afraid and alone---trembling in real time. Unlike in a dream where she had been afraid and yet could begin to attach her mind to aspects of her actual real time reality---process in which she would eventually be pulled out with---this was all happening at the pace of her rapid heart beat. She would not wake up when the alarm rang. The closest thing to the alarm would be the bell that would toll when she arrived at her floor. And with no one else in the elevator, and a few more floors to go, she closed her eyes and closed her mouth encapsulating both of her lips inside---a habit that she had when she was a kid. Her shoulders tense. Her feet hurting from running in the heels, she just wanted to sit down in the safe office with Mr. Lamont and whomever he was seeing. When the client left, she felt that she could tell Mr. Lamont, and he would figure something out. They had worked together long enough where she knew that he wouldn’t ask her what she hadn’t said anything to the security folk in the lobby. 
The bell rang and the doors opened just as she came to realize the temperature of the tea was lukewarm now. It amazed her that everything had happened in only a matter of moments---the length of time that it took a cup of tea to move from steaming hot, to luke warm. She made her way down the lobby corridor as quick as she could and had to put both the pizza and tea in one hand again in order to open up the office door. Upon stepping into the office, she did not feel that safety and security that she felt she was going to. Something was different in the office. She didn’t even know if Mr. Lamont and Mr. Smith were still speaking, but the door to Mr. Lamont’s office was still closed. 

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