Five Minute Fiction 66
An ongoing weekly experiment where I give myself five minutes to write something. Don’t think about anything. Just write. When done, walk away, coming back later to correct any glaring errors.
Bad Day At The Office
Phil walked into the room and spied Hank brooding in the corner. Slumping in a chair, his head hung low, chin on chest, he was the picture of the perfect depression. “Hey there, Hank!” Phil said, lumbering over. “So, what’s up, buddy?” he said, pulling out a chair and lowering himself into the creaking seat
“Oh, hey there, Phil,” Hank said, not raising his chin off his chest. “Just learned that the boss wants me to work this weekend. Can you believe it? I told him last week that the wife and I had plans. Big jerk.”
“Come on, man. It’s not all bad. Just think of the overtime,” Phil said, trying his best to cheer up his friend.
“Oh, great. What am I going to do with another sheep? Seems they breed faster than I can eat ‘em.”
“Well, you know what they say. Save it for a rainy day,” Phil said.
Hank crossed his arms and slumped lower in his chair. At near tears, he buried his head in his calloused hands. “’S not fair. What am I supposed to tell the missus?”
“Why don’t you go explain to Hep that the wife was looking forward to…what were you going to do again?” Phil asked.
“We were going to go to the island. Have a picnic in the meadow,” Hank said, sounding more despondent by the minute.
“Okay, so tell him that the wife has been looking forward to this picnic. She’d be heartbroken if she couldn’t go,” Phil said, slamming his fist down on the table with such force he made the ground shake. “I tell you buddy, you gotta be assertive. After all there are only three of us. We’ll back you up. Heck, without us who’s gonna make that Helmet of Darkness that the God of Thunder has been looking forward to? The big baby…”
“No. You’re right,” Hank said, straightening up in his chair. “I need to tell him that I’m overworked. That my family comes first.” Brushing away some imaginary dust off his leather tunic he stood up and looked Phil straight in the eye. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Hey, don’t mention it,” Phil replied with a smile, standing. Slapping Hank on the shoulder. “We Cyclops have to stick together.”