Day 2: Create a character. Write a brief scene of them in a setting. Also use this paragraph to introduce the character to the reader by how they react to their setting.
She hadn’t put milk in my coffee. I thought about going back and demanding it. I didn’t. There’s no such thing as an undrinkable cup of coffee. Still, a little milk would have been nice. Thunder cracked somewhere behind my manly black umbrella as though to punctuate the thought. This was the kind of Monday morning they should put on posters to join the army. Do soldiers have Mondays the way us civvies do?
I pondered this dilemma as a skipped over any deep-looking puddles on my way to work. As I dashed out of the door this morning, I had chosen Converse over DMs. I’d chosen speed over practicality, and now I was paying the price doing my dainty rain prance.
Work today was in an office downtown. They big bosses suspected one of the accountants was skimming a little personal bonus for himself, so they want me to go stroke their servers and find out who, what and how.
Oh, a little background. My name is Jack. I can see information. Like, all information. It’s floating around us all the time – more and more evertly day. It’s just that most people need technology to be able to get at it. Except me. That’s why I earn the big bucks. We’ll, the medium-sized bucks. More like pamphlets, really.
It’s like – you know when you’re sitting on a crowded bus and everyone is talking at once? You can tune in to individual conversations if you concentrate and tilt your head? It’s kind of like that. And completely different. I don’t know. You try explaining one of your senses and get back to me. Anyway, it’s a thing I can do. As you can imagine, I’m prone to migraines.
I arrived a little early and got a feel for the emails bouncing around. Mostly bored responses to Friday’s urgent requests or flirty little exchanges designed to wake up the sender and the recipient before the real work began. So emails weren’t tightly regulated here, then. I’d like to say “that was interesting”, but it wasn’t. Relevant maybe, but not interesting.
I introduced myself to the receptionist who was hiding behind a few inches of deftly-applied makeup. She directed me to some uncomfortable beige seats and asked me to wait. And I did. For half an hour. That was until I picked up an email with my name as the subject:
Mr. James Matthew Wilson, Infomancer,
If you can read this, please come to my office (13-25) on the thirteenth floor.
And so on and so forth. God, I hated working with norms. Nonetheless, I pulled myself up and felt a crack where a piece of ‘soft’ furnishing had been digging into me. This was definitely turning into a real Monday morning. I traipsed over to the big corporate elevators and hit the arrow grumpily.
NB: Some of this is taken for a bit of a scribble I started last week. I’ve been struggling to develop it, so I’m giving it a go with this challenge. 🙂