Refund Please (a five-minute #freewrite)

Hello, hello! πŸ™‚

Today is Day 552 of @mariannewest’s five-minute freewrite! The prompt for today is — manager — and today I went back to basics and just went with whatever popped out of my mind, instead of trying to integrate it into my universe.

My brain is dead at the moment when it comes to my upcoming novel. Just need a few days break from it. Up to 55,000 words though –I’m past the halfway mark! Though I try to make each chapter fast-paced and page-turning (possibly even too fast-paced) we’re up to the meaty bit of the story now where things are actually supposed to be fast-paced. Cael’s running through the forest trying to find Lyria, he’s about to find anguish, she’s about to find anguish, then the Lord of the realm is going to find anguish, and then we have a brief reprieve, AND THEN MORE ANGUISH.

Haha. Taking the weekend off. Too much anguish.

ANYWAY.

You can find today’s challenge — and join in!!!! — at the following link:
https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-552-5-minute-freewrite-thursday-prompt-manager

And the image used for my header is CC0 and courtesy of Pixabay! πŸ™‚

 


 

“Number twenty-three, Mr Freeman. The manager will see you now.”

I looked up into the dull, lifeless eyes of a pale-faced woman, her mousy brown hair as flat as her tone. She offered a smile, but it wasn’t a genuine one. It suggested that she hated me. All people like me. And she especially hated all the people behind me, waiting their turn, like I just had been.

She also had bugs bunny teeth. Which is terrible of me to say, but there they were, staring at me, begging me to offer them a carrot. Maybe that’s why she hated me.

“Thank you,” I muttered, climbing to my feet.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way in,” she smirked.

There was a look in her eye that I couldn’t trust. Edging towards the door, I leapt inside before she could slam it into me.

“Ah, Mr Freeman!”

The manager was rotund with greasy hair and tiny, tiny eyes. Like a crab. It took all of my strength to not greet him as Mr Crab Eyes.

I cleared my throat.

“Manager Bishop,” I smiled and dumped a bucket of electronics onto his desk. All of them failed. All of them useless. And all of them from his worthless company. “I’d like a refund, please.”

 


 

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