Friday, August 8, 2014

Crumbs of Curiosity: Part 3 of 10

With the cookie consumed, the idea of the crumbly treat now consumed him. Dylan was a quick thinker, well-educated, but he didn’t realize what had just happened - the severity of the situation. Then it hit him. So much so that when he was lowering his index finger to retrieve a crumb he quickly pulled back as if given an electric shock. Eating that one cookie in that one isolated moment had caused a disturbance in the gears that ran his day – morning to night – to the T. The mustached accountant sat swiveling in his chair like a wind –up toy with no direction.
An aftertaste began to develop in the back of his throat…or was heart burn. The taste of a thousand envelopes propagated in his mouth. Disgusted, and feeling dehydrated, by having consumed the cookie, he brushed off the crumbs into his hand, laid them in the trash as not to spill any on the floor. He wanted to get a drink. He needed to get a drink. Actually, what Dylan really wanted was to start this whole day over. He didn’t know what to do with himself. No meetings were scheduled and no phone calls or emails were due, but that blasted cookie made him feel off track and subsequently out of control. It was now 8:17 and for the life of him he couldn’t remember what he was usually doing at this time each and every morning.
Standing, out of sorts, Dylan glanced out the window which didn’t help. He never glanced out the window. Coworkers were arriving and getting out of their cars. Soon the ding of elevator would sound followed by the shuffling of feet followed by the inaudible sounds of morning gossip. Dylan loathed morning gossip. In fact he loathed all conversations…and to be truthful, he hated all mornings. Especially this one.
If he were to get a drink it needed to be now. Wait! He usually didn’t go out to drink until mid-morning when everyone else was in the break room sipping coffee and gossiping. It presented a perfect opportunity to avoid all conversation especially small talk. Dylan Trout the CPA, brilliant-minded, socially awkward – and now cookie eater – loathed small talk. He’d much prefer the whinnying of a horse on his grandmother’s ranch…and more of her Snickerdoodles.
The thought of more cookies made him salivate. In a rush, the accountant swung open his door, looked left, looked right and proceeded towards the drinking fountain.
Arriving with no one in sight, Dylan inhaled deeply and enjoyed a long sip. Lifting his head and wiping off the drip from his chin, he looked left, looked right and breathed out relieved that no one saw him. Nobody to say, “Hey, Fish!” or “Hey, Dyl Pickle!” Dylan Trout the accountant loathed nicknames. Especially in the morning - especially this morning.
Then he heard it. After only one step towards his safe haven…he heard it.

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