Wholly Original Work

11/9

This morning I’m pouring sugar into my coffee and stuffing my fat dumb face with frosted donettes when old Bill Sluice from HR comes up to me. He says, hey Drew, got a newbie in an entry level position, down in Plagiarism. Seeing’s that’s your old stomping grounds, he says, figured you might show her the ropes.

I go: But I’m in Infringement now.

Don’t matter, Bill says. With Marcia out on mat-leave someone’s gotta show her the ropes.

What are these ropes? is what I say. I worked in Plagiarism sixteen years, I don’t remember any ropes.

Bill goes, Very funny—you don’t think I heard that one before? She’s at the front desk and I told her you’re on your way.

I went to the front desk.

She was there, like Bill said. Continue reading “Wholly Original Work”

A Routine

A Routine
Ryan Everett Felton

          One.
          Two.
          Three.

          I shift the car from park to drive the requisite number of times. I count along in my head, as the ritual demands.
          Four.
          Five.
          Six.
          Seven.

          Then I lick my lips seven times and back out of the driveway. It is 7:00 in the morning when I leave for another day at the office, and I will time my arrival so that the digits on the other side of the o’clock colon can be divided by the magic number. I do this every day.
          I do this to protect the world from certain catastrophe, and you’re welcome. Continue reading “A Routine”