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Water Cooler Conversations

21 Saturday Jan 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

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birthday, paranoia, pistol, the office, water cooler.

Sharon Killburn is really pissed off.

Her ears are burning.

While her face is a deep beet red.

 

She looks over toward the water cooler.

And sure enough five of her workmates are standing around it.

As they talk they steal sly glances in Sharon’s direction.

Sharon knows that they are talking about her.

But what are they saying?

 

This has been going on for weeks.

Who do these bitch’es think they are?

Sharon cant stand it no more.

So she walks over to the water cooler.

Hi guys what are you talking about?

None of her workmates answer.

They wander off back to work.

 

At lunch Sharon once again tries to draw her workmates into

conversation.

But once again she is ignored.

She knows that they have been talking about her at the water cooler.

She doesn’t understand why she is being excluded.

Why are they being so standoffish?

It is really starting to mess with her mind.

 

After lunch Sharon goes to the bathroom to freshen up.

She enters the last cubicle and sits down.

She tries hard to hold back the tears

But soon they are rolling down her face.

Sharon knows that she shouldn’t let things get to her.

But she cant help it.

 

She takes a few moments to compose herself and dry her eyes.

Than with a sigh she goes back to work.

 

As she walks past the water cooler.

Once again her workmates are standing around it chatting away.

But when they spot Sharon all talking stops.

Sharon just keeps on walking acting nonchalant and carefree.

But inside her stomach is churning.

 

Don’t these people ever do any work?

All they do is stand around the water cooler gossiping behind peoples

back.

Sharon tries to get some work done but she cant concentrate.

If only she knew what they were talking about.

 

She through the rest of the day with a heavy heart.

Why are her workmates going out of their way to annoy her?

She doesn’t understand what is happening.

Her so called friends are giving her the cold shoulder.

Normally she would join in all the gossip.

So why is she now being shut out?

 

She has worked in this office for over five years.

And normally the water cooler conversations is what gets her

through the day.

A little conversation and a laugh what more could a girl ask for?

But now for some reason she being treated like an outsider.

And it is really starting to fuck with her mind.

 

At home Sharon tries to relax and forget all the crap at work.

But she cant believe the way she is being treated.

She has gone from being part of the in crowd.

To being completely ignored.

 

She pours herself a large whiskey and swallows it down in one

mouthful.

She pours herself another and starts to stew.

How dare those motherfuckers treat her like shit

As far as she knows she has done nothing wrong.

Sharon keeps on drinking as she wallows in her wounded pride.

 

The following days are all a blur for Sharon.

She has started to let herself go.

And truth be told she is starting to smell.

She no longer showers and has poor personal hygiene.

That should give her workmates something to talk about.

 

The whiskey bottle is almost empty.

But Sharon’s thoughts are full of hate.

She will make those arseholes pay big time.

As she swallows the last drop of the liquor she comes to a decision.

Tomorrow she will  have her revenge.

 

Before going to bed Sharon opens the bottom drawer of her dresser

and pulls out a pistol.

She puts it in her handbag and a small smile comes to her face.

Tomorrow cant come soon enough.

 

In the morning Sharon wakes up with one hell of a hangover.

Her tongue is furry and her head is pounding.

But after a strong cup of coffee and a handful of painkillers.

She grabs her car keys and heavy handbag  and heads off to work.

 

Arriving at the office Sharon is feeling very seedy.

And looking a little worse for wear.

She enters the staff room with her hand in her handbag stroking

the pistol.

but something is different the room is decorated with streamers and

balloons.

Is it someone’s birthday?

 

Than by the water cooler she sees her so called friends gathered around.

The cooler is covered in decorations and sitting on top is a big birthday

cake.

Than suddenly Sharon remembers that today is her 31st birthday.

 

Sharon doesn’t know what to say.

For once she is speechless

Her workmates all sing happy birthday and wish her all the best.

God how could she have been so stupid?

Her friends were giving her the silent treatment because they were planning

a surprise,

She feels like a complete fool.

 

Than she realises that she still has a hand in her bag.

With a finger on the trigger.

She slowly releases her finger and puts a smile on her face.

 

After blowing out the candles and cutting the cake.

Sharon and her workmates stand around the water cooler and talk and

talk “Thanks guys i never doubted you for a minute”

 

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i could reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Attic To The Past

28 Wednesday Sep 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

attic, birthday, family, ghosts, heaven, memories, the past

Today is a very special day for me.

It is my 78th birthday.

I jump out of bed as fast as i can.

But it isn’t that easy at my age.

Than i sit at the kitchen and drink a

hot cup of tea.

As i sit there my mind starts to look back

All i have now is half remembered memories.

Well i cant sit here all day.

Maybe someone will pay me a visit?

I will have to make sure that the house is nice and clean

Surely my son and daughter will bring the grandchildren

around.

I haven’t seen them in quite a long time.

The only person who visits is the nice lady from meals on wheels.

I wonder if she knows how lonliness feels?

I go from room to room tidying as i go.

Than i comb my hair and brush my teeth.

And use some aftershave.

Now all i can do is wait.

Hang on was that a knock on the front door?

I rush to open it up but there is nobody there

Just a lot of undisturbed air.

I sit on my lounge and turn on the TV

I need to calm down.

There will be a phone call any minute.

Than i hear a noise coming from upstairs.

It sounded like foot steps up in the attic.

As i make my way towards that upper room

My heart is beating fast boom boom boom.

When i enter the attic all i see is dust motes and cob webs

I haven’t been up here in more than twenty years.

Nobody is up here except maybe some ghosts.

Even though the attic is full of memories.

I am starting to have second thoughts.

Because as you know not all memories are good.

Than i notice a favourite piece of wood.

In the corner near an old possum nest is my old cricket

bat.

I pick it up and start to play some shots.

Than my arthritis tells me that i am not twenty one anymore.

I sit down on an old wooden chest and think back.

And my face does something it hasn’t done for a while.

It transforms itself and turns into a smile.

Near my feet lies an old rubber ball.

That belonged to a neighbours dog that adopted me as it’s owner.

It was old and cranky with a grey muzzle.

But to me Cass was always kind and gentle.

A black doberman Cass was the best dog in the world.

We used to run around and play in the park.

And as i listen now i can still hear him bark.

I hang my head as i think back.

Than i feel a change in the air.

I look up to see the dust motes dancing and forming shapes.

I see my late wife Cindy in her wedding dress

She was always glowing as pretty as a picture.

I start to weep god i really miss her.

About a decade ago Cindy found a lump in her breast.

She fought the best that she could.

But cancer is a really hard disease to beat.

The radiation and chemo took a heavy toll on her body.

And just three months after the diagnosis

My darling Cindy was gone.

Taken by that god awful disease.

With a heavy heart i fall to my knees.

The dust motes are still dancing and mingling with the moon

beams.

And my deceased brother and sister appear.

Greg is riding his motorbike.

While Sue is cuddling her kids.

They are both doing what they liked to do the most.

Greg rode his motorbike into heaven.

And 28 years later Sue joined him in the big sky.

Both of them were taken way too soon.

The dust motes still dance and swoon.

As i look at those dust motes.

My brother and sister sort of fade away.

I want to run into those motes and make them re arrange

How dare those motes take my brother and sister away again.

But i know that one day i will once again see my brother sister

and wife.

Because after death there is life.

The dust has finally settled.

But my memories are still strong.

The attic to the past has stirred up a lot of thoughts.

Memories of long lost souls.

Names and faces that i will never forget as long as i live.

Why do people have to die?

I head back downstairs before i start to cry.

I turn on the kettle and have another cup of tea.

Before my offspring and grand children arrive.

Hopefully they will bring beer and some chocolate cake.

I go and make myself a sandwich.

But as i eat my brain has too much time to think.

I wash my thoughts and dishes down the sink.

Three o’clock and my phone still hasn’t rung.

Maybe my family is stuck in heavy traffic?

Or they are still shopping for my present?

But deep down in my heart i know that they have forgotten

My family will not visit for my birthday.

I will just have to celebrate alone.

There isn’t any birthday cake or candles to blow out.

Nor any presents to unwrap.

So i just lie down and have a little nap.

But i cant sleep.

All i can think about is that attic to the past.

I was happy sitting there amongst the dust motes.

So i go back upstairs to that special room

I sit on that wooden chest but nothing happens

The dust motes and the magic has gone.

The attic is now nothing more than a room full of mould.

I just slink downstairs to my lonely little household.

I sit in my chair watching the sun go down.

Waiting for my TV dinner to cook in the oven.

Than i will have an early night.

Or maybe have a few beers to drown my sorrows

Than headlights appears in the driveway.

My loving family is finally here.

I am really had any doubts.

From feeling way down in the dumps.

I am now way up in the clouds.

And they say that every cloud has a sliver lining.

And even though it is dark.

The sun is surely shining.

Hugs and kisses are exchanged.

And i confess that i didn’t think that they were coming.

That i was just about to go to bed.

My daughter pipes up ‘But dad i told you that we are taking

you out for chinese’

‘So go grab your jacket we have a birthday to celebrate’

‘I have booked a table and we dont want to be late’

The grand Kids are jumping up and down raring to go.

I grab my keys and jacket and head out the door.

Surrounded by my loving family.

But i cant resist one last look up to that attic to the past.

I know that my memories will last and last.

Memories remind you of your yesterdays.

But you cant live in the past.

You have to live in the here and now.

So i close my front door.

And we all head on our way

To celebrate my 78th birthday.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please help me achieve my dream of becoming a fulltime writer by making a small donation i would really appreciate it. Thanks again Steven.

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