As quiet as it is kept
She hastened the clatter of her fingers on the keyboard. Like most people, she detested eavesdroppers. Yet, given the cloistered confines of their workspace, who could fault her for learning of his dreadful connections?
"You are not a materialistic person," she overheard his affirmation to the caller, and she angled her head further towards the cubicle partition, fingers arrested mid-air. His unusual positive message was a sharp contrast to his habitual excuse-filled avoidance of tasks-at-hand, petulant complaints and nagging criticism of office policies.
"But, what you need to do is put your foot on his back and kick him to the concrete, that's what you need to do," he continued.
Her memory of the rumor-mongering lesson she learned as a teen was as fresh as the dewdrops on the banana leaves in Bibi’s* plantation. Nobody would ever finger her as feeder of the office beast.
"If that doesn't work, we'll wait and see," he continued, "you know they are going to earn every penny of their salary now," he snickered, "it's going to get nasty." He rarely used his library voice, and this morning was no exception. It is no wonder; her curiosity peaked in spite of her old-fashioned ethic and Bibi’s favorite proverb, sikio hailali na njaa.**
“Okay, talk to you later.” He ended the call and, after what seemed like a lifetime, her nimbly executed Ctrl+P command set off the rhythmic whir of her printer, spitting two blank pages; her camouflage tactic, albeit delayed.
“Thank god it’s Friday, right?” she called over the wall. Then, without invitation, she got up and glided into his cubicle.
“Yes indeed,” he responded as his eyes traversed her jean-clad pear shape; every business setting needs dress-down Friday eye candy. "Nice boots," he added.
“You know that fool of an attorney that is head-over-heels over that new secretary?” He began smoothly with the current affairs.
"What do you mean?” the blank look belied her knowledge.
“Where have you been sweetie? I don’t even know how he practices law, he is such an idiot,” he said.
“It’s about to go down up in here,” he continued in a voice wrapped in such gleeful venom, she suffered an immediate allergic reaction. A heat rose up her neck and flooded her cheeks leaving tracks the size of hives. Yet, she stood immobile, unable to remove herself to her cubicle, intrigued by the certainty in his voice.
Just yesterday she and the new secretary had gone out to lunch.
*Bibi = grandmother
** sikio hailali na njaa = an ear does not go to bed hungry, there is always plenty of gossip; a Kiswahili proverb.
Mingi Love,
Mama Shujaa.
Copyright © Mama Shujaa 2011. All Rights Reserved.
"You are not a materialistic person," she overheard his affirmation to the caller, and she angled her head further towards the cubicle partition, fingers arrested mid-air. His unusual positive message was a sharp contrast to his habitual excuse-filled avoidance of tasks-at-hand, petulant complaints and nagging criticism of office policies.
"But, what you need to do is put your foot on his back and kick him to the concrete, that's what you need to do," he continued.
Her memory of the rumor-mongering lesson she learned as a teen was as fresh as the dewdrops on the banana leaves in Bibi’s* plantation. Nobody would ever finger her as feeder of the office beast.
"If that doesn't work, we'll wait and see," he continued, "you know they are going to earn every penny of their salary now," he snickered, "it's going to get nasty." He rarely used his library voice, and this morning was no exception. It is no wonder; her curiosity peaked in spite of her old-fashioned ethic and Bibi’s favorite proverb, sikio hailali na njaa.**
“Okay, talk to you later.” He ended the call and, after what seemed like a lifetime, her nimbly executed Ctrl+P command set off the rhythmic whir of her printer, spitting two blank pages; her camouflage tactic, albeit delayed.
“Thank god it’s Friday, right?” she called over the wall. Then, without invitation, she got up and glided into his cubicle.
“Yes indeed,” he responded as his eyes traversed her jean-clad pear shape; every business setting needs dress-down Friday eye candy. "Nice boots," he added.
“You know that fool of an attorney that is head-over-heels over that new secretary?” He began smoothly with the current affairs.
"What do you mean?” the blank look belied her knowledge.
“Where have you been sweetie? I don’t even know how he practices law, he is such an idiot,” he said.
“It’s about to go down up in here,” he continued in a voice wrapped in such gleeful venom, she suffered an immediate allergic reaction. A heat rose up her neck and flooded her cheeks leaving tracks the size of hives. Yet, she stood immobile, unable to remove herself to her cubicle, intrigued by the certainty in his voice.
Just yesterday she and the new secretary had gone out to lunch.
***
A short short intro to my new series. I will post the next, longer segment of As quiet as it is kept on Sunday, January 16th. Supposed secrets of every day life.*Bibi = grandmother
** sikio hailali na njaa = an ear does not go to bed hungry, there is always plenty of gossip; a Kiswahili proverb.
Mingi Love,
Mama Shujaa.
Copyright © Mama Shujaa 2011. All Rights Reserved.
I wanted more. That's how I felt by the end. I wanted a whole lot more. Me, greedy reader. Loved the little details: Ctrl+P , the Kiswahili proverb, the dress-down Friday. You gave me a strong sense of intimacy. Many thanks. I missed your writing. :-)
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Mama's cliffhangers! :-) Counting down to Sunday for more!
ReplyDeleteACIL and AO, more is coming our way; I too am excited to see what follows. ha!
ReplyDeleteACIL, having you a self-proclaimed, unabashed greedy reader like you, makes the writing all the more fun and exciting. Thank you for the feedback and compliment!
Interesting story! You're creativity is so connected to culture- it's an education!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your gifts!
It’s fun to get a glimpse of your WIP. An office place story is a great setting for intrigue. I love the Kiswahili expression too.
ReplyDeleteStill asttempting to join the chat.... let, see, Karo
ReplyDeleteYeeaaaah!!!! Bravo Bravo to meee!! Made it again.... not very tech savvy...in 2011? mmmmm!
ReplyDeleteStill snowed in - four days now...wheew! Your entries make for entertaining reading especially on a day like this,,, love the detailed description of actions, imagery brings it up like a movie playing right in front of one...Thanks.
Let me try this again......1,2,3, Karo.
The book of dummies for posting a comment
ReplyDelete1) type comment
2) click preview
3) type in letters they show you
4) click "post comment"
ha ha ha heee!!
Thank you Sarah and Karo, thanks for persisting and for the lovely commentsx3!
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