Boredom
A series of short pieces by Ms Alisha
The critical boredom factor had been reached - he felt as if he would explode from it. With each passing minute, he felt the very life force being drained from him, as if some huge parasite had wrapped itself around his brain.
Well, in a way, it had. Boredom was an evil, endemic thing, born of office life,
transmitted by bureaucracy. There was only one cure - adventure, excitement, and all
things wild. Not much chance of that happening around here - the only piece of excitement
recently was a Mac bursting into flames, and even that was not enough to sate his jaded
palate.
He'd just have to make some excitement, create some adventure - do something really wild.
He toyed with the idea of ambushing his boss, cutting him down in a hail of bullets, as he
attempted to cross the foyer. He'd gotten as far as banking a pair of Claymores by the
security desk, but some pratt with a mobile had managed to trip them by mistake. Well,
served him right - he should have used a tighter frequency on the remotes.
The next thing he'd try would have to be a little more physical - perhaps a blade, at very
close range. Promotion done in the old fashioned way. It guaranteed that people would stop
napping on the job. Unless they fancied a really long sleep....
He looked down at the letter opener on the desk. Wouldn't old Larry be dozing off right
about now. Larry had that great corner office, with a couple of windows in it. And a
hankering for long, liquid lunches, which saw him cutting z's at 2p.m. every Thursday.
Regular as clockwork.
He sauntered gently down the corridor, the opener concealed up the sleeve of his blazer,
eyes searching for stray movement. It wouldn't do to be caught in the attempt. And after
he'd finished Larry off, he could control the internal investigation anyway.
The door swung gently open, gliding silently across the plush pile of the carpet. Larry
lay, snoring, on the couch by the window. It was an easy kill - the point of the opener
sliding gently up into the base of the brain, the body flopping randomly, then nothing.
Only the faecal stench of emptied bowels, and a slight coppery tang of spilt blood.
He lowered himself into the corpse's comfy chair, and rang for a clean up crew. Maybe now
office life would not be so boring.