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by Scott Normandin
On any other day, it simply would have
been a man standing at the window of the
office building, simply enjoying the view.
Today, for this man, it was the calm before
the storm. Today would be the day of reckoning,
and a plan that was months in the works
would be executed without flaw, because
he just knew.
There at the window on the third floor
stood Roger Devvin, staring through the
open blinds contemplating, and waiting.
All that would be needed to start the chain
of events was for his nemesis to arrive.
A man he considered a sleazebag little more
than a greedy opportunist, and that moment
was to arrive any time now. He sighed lightly
knowing full well that he never wanted things
to get to this point, but knew there was
no where else yet to go, and there would
be no turning back.
His modest office reflected the kind
of man he was. It was not the largest office
with the best view, but he was happy with
it all these years. The desk was older,
in need of repair. Deep scratches and dings
on the surface showed its wear, and years
of use of its owner. The objects on the
desk were haphazardly arranged to simply
make room for whatever work he needed to
get done. The few small pictures of his
family life long past with faded photographs
of children long since grown adorned the
small shelf behind the desk. The walls
decorated with pictures of some of his favorite
fishing spots.
Most of all, the old sofa up against
one wall that looked like it belonged in
some basement rec. room somewhere. One of
those old dark green ones that were so popular
in the seventies. Its old upholstery had
been wearing for years, the color faded,
but he could not part with it. He spent
many nights sleeping on that couch during
his divorce. It was comforting, like an
old bathrobe.
The buzz of the intercom broke the silence
that gave Roger his moment of reflection.
"Mr. Devvin, your 5:00pm appointment
is here," his secretary blurted.
Roger sighed, and replied, "Thank
you, Ms Redding, please show him in."
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