A piece of flash fiction (or not-so-fiction, possibly), as part of a writing exercise titled 'perspective reboot' many years ago. Enjoy
Rite of Passage
"Did I not tell you this was due this morning?" His face falls, the morning's greetings forgotten.
"Yes, but..."
"What is the issue? Can you not handle the deadlines given to you?"
I see him flinch. I can tell that his mind is working to come up with a suitable response. Forthright admission? An excuse? A promise that it won't happen again? Frankly, it doesn't matter.
"I really tried, Amy, I was up most of the night," he says finally. My lip curls at his hangdog tactics.
"I didn't come in to work today to debate your sleep cycle, Raymond." He blinks. I suppose I've become more creative with my quips with each passing associate. "I came in expecting the memo at my desk." I could raise my voice, but today I don't feel the need. I watch him rock on his feet, wishing he'd stayed up that one extra hour. Or two. Good. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see people watching the exchange, a dint of pity in their eyes. And guilty enjoyment. Everyone loves a good scene.
"I'm sorry, Amy, I...it won't happen again," he mumbles. "Please give me one more hour."
"Do what you like, Raymond. I'm not going to pick up the flak for your weaknesses." I turn away, but not before I see him tremble as he returns to his desk.
"Do you really need to bully him so?" Rosalyn asks, stopping by my desk.
"Oh, come on. We've all been there. How will they learn unless we rough them up. Anyway, coffee?"
Rite of Passage
"Did I not tell you this was due this morning?" His face falls, the morning's greetings forgotten.
"Yes, but..."
"What is the issue? Can you not handle the deadlines given to you?"
I see him flinch. I can tell that his mind is working to come up with a suitable response. Forthright admission? An excuse? A promise that it won't happen again? Frankly, it doesn't matter.
"I really tried, Amy, I was up most of the night," he says finally. My lip curls at his hangdog tactics.
"I didn't come in to work today to debate your sleep cycle, Raymond." He blinks. I suppose I've become more creative with my quips with each passing associate. "I came in expecting the memo at my desk." I could raise my voice, but today I don't feel the need. I watch him rock on his feet, wishing he'd stayed up that one extra hour. Or two. Good. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see people watching the exchange, a dint of pity in their eyes. And guilty enjoyment. Everyone loves a good scene.
"I'm sorry, Amy, I...it won't happen again," he mumbles. "Please give me one more hour."
"Do what you like, Raymond. I'm not going to pick up the flak for your weaknesses." I turn away, but not before I see him tremble as he returns to his desk.
"Do you really need to bully him so?" Rosalyn asks, stopping by my desk.
"Oh, come on. We've all been there. How will they learn unless we rough them up. Anyway, coffee?"