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The Temporary

By Catherine Lundoff · Jan 2, 2019
1,837 words · 7-minute reading time

My desk

Photo by Nikita Kachanovsky via Unsplash.

From the author: Mildred's fantasy life made her temp gig more interesting, but now it was taking on a life of its very own...

It was on the afternoon of the fifth day that Mildred first noticed it, though the day was like any other until then. She signed in at the front desk, wandered down the brown on brown on brown halls--carpet, walls and columns all in different shades, of course--and walked to her cubicle with its gray metal desk, set off by maroon dividers from all of the other cubicles with their metal desks.

She sat down before the computer enthroned in the midst of the gray plain and turned it on. Then she watched the spiraling documents scroll past, adding numbers, changing numbers, waiting, hoping for the new office manager to notice her. He had the handsome, craggy features and the fierce disposition of the hero in Love's Tender Mauling, or whatever that romance that she picked up at the drugstore was called. Watching his strong hands, sans wedding band, glide over a keyboard never failed to make a cool shiver creep up her spine.

In fact, she spent so much time watching his hands that she...

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