2016 – Day 1

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: starts with this dialogue: Are you going to be late?

Step 2: add this word: actress

Step 3: include a dialogue that begins with: Have you heard anything?

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"Are you going to be late?" Belinda asked, her voice rising into the receiver that she held in her right hand as she twirled the phone cord in her left. The cord caught on itself as she twisted it around her index finger and she had to give it several tugs to set herself free, dropping the receiver on the final tug. She grabbed it back from where it landed on her desk and pressed it to her ear, just in time to hear her boss, Ms. Jenkins, say, "A few minutes. Start without me."

She wanted to say that she couldn't, but it was only her second day on the job and Ms. Jenkins frightened her. She had never worked in HR before and knew they had taken a chance on her, so she couldn't let on how lost she felt. After all, maybe it was normal to have new employees fire old ones on their second day.

As she waited for Tom Caldecott from Research to arrive for the bad news, she practiced her speech. She felt like an actress rehearsing lines. Maybe I can use that, she thought. I can pretend I'm someone else. Someone tough. Like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. Then came the knock at the door. Belinda stood to welcome Tom, then ushered him into the seat across from her desk.

The office was small, with her desk taking up the largest portion of the room, and the chairs on either side taking up much of what was left of the floor space. Once two people were inside with the door closed, they could not reopen the door without the visitor standing up from his chair and pushing it closer to the desk to make room.

After Tom was seated, Belinda began to sidle her way to the other side of the desk toward her chair, but then she remembered Meryl, or rather Miranda Priestly, and sat at the edge of the desk instead. She felt fully in character as she looked down upon him from atop her perch, but the close proximity of the chair to the desk meant that her knees were practically brushing against his shoulder and she had to lean heavily to the left to avoid having her feet dangle into his lap.

"It's very nice to meet you today, Tom," she said.

"Nice to meet you, too, although I'm not sure why I'm here," he said.

She was about to respond, but then she felt herself keeling over too far to the left and had to catch herself by grabbing onto the edge of the desk. Afraid to say anything at that moment, she smiled and gave him a knowing look.

"Have you heard anything?" he asked. "I mean, I had thought my meeting was with Tamara Jenkins, but you must know why I'm here, right?"

"Yes, and I wish it was under better circumstances," she said.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Well, as you know the company has been going through some changes and, as a result of these changes, they have been reevaluating their priorities." She had planned to pause for effect, but then she saw the panicked look on his face. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to not hear anything that he might have to say to her in response. She barreled forward, hardly pausing for breath. "One of the issues they have reexamined is how much research they wish to conduct. The current staffing is not sustainable under the new research model, and so some serious decisions had to be made. I'm very sorry, but your position is no longer needed at the company."

She inched her way up the desk so that she could sit up straighter and appear more serious. Worried that her panic was clearly written on her face, she focused all of her energies into channeling her best tough Miranda and braced for his angry response.

Tom stared at the floor and said nothing for a long time. Then, as his breathing grew louder and he looked up at her hovering over him from the edge of the desk, he burst into tears.