Lost by zanya Lost - Flash Fiction writing prompt entry |
'Lost' was not a word Jake used. He resented others who allowed it rear its ugly head in chats.
As a thirty-something, Jake felt like the classic master of the Universe. Already, he was chief sales executive, pursued by a bevvy of eligible women. He resented ninnies and whingers. He pitied those unfortunates in his workplace every day, like Andy, who was never going to make it out of the paper pusher's office chair. As for Jake, he felt indispensable to the firm. Parents were divorced since he was in short pants. He sometimes wondered where they hung out on the planet. He didn't have time to find out. That Friday in March 2020, Jake was the last one to leave. Being second in command meant there were serious responsibilities to be shouldered as the country ground to a halt, due to a once- in- a- century pandemic. Perched on his plush couch in his penthouse, his eyes were glued to the rolling news. 'Schools shut..cases tripled..hospital shortages of PPE..work from home..' Jake scratched his head as he pulled at his necktie while trying to make sense of it all. 'I'm lost,' he muttered. Reaching for his phone he attempted to connect with his peers. No response. Where was everybody? Still, the newsreader droned on, ' traffic jams on the M 20...' Light from a dreary, grey dawn filtered through the curtain. James uncurled his weary body from the couch where he had lain all night. His phone buzzed continuously. He scrolled frantically, stopping suddenly 'Dad ill with virus,' His only brother Dan had been in touch. 'Plant closed..employees must work from home.' His entire existence revolved around his workplace and now it would be closed indefinitely. 'No problem working from home. My wife Anna and myself will be happy to give the long commute a miss for a while.' Andy Andy had it sussed. Plodding Andy from the typing pool knew what to do in an unprecedented crisis, alongside his wife. Who would have guessed what depths lay beneath Andy's bland smile? Jake didn't want to allow himself to utter that word again,'Lost'. It would be an admission of failure. But failure now hung in the air like an unwelcome stench. Jake would have to neutralise it. Calls were now queued up on his phone. 'Where the hell are you, Jake.?'..his boss Archibald shouted down the phone. Jake paced the floor in his penthouse. Being a germaphobe since his youth, Jake knew the game was up. Here was a war he couldn't win. His boss would have to be informed. Holding his phone in his left hand, he carefully chose his words. Sir Archibald, I wish to inform you that, today, I'm resigning my position at the company. Jake Searching frantically in the bathroom cupboard for hand sanitizer, he locked his Merc in the garage and closed the window blinds. 'Lost ' had shown its ugly face.
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