Reflections

The man, whose suit emphasized his tall stature, walked heavily up the stairs that led to a modern work building. Pausing outside of his office door, he read the small plaque that was cleverly placed at eye level. The inscription read, “If you are here to waste my valuable time, then LEAVE, lest you want to be sued for soliciting. Have a bad day!”  Smiling maliciously to himself, he remembered victims who hadn’t heeded the warning and had ended up paying oh-so-dearly for it.
Once in his office, he looked into the mirror placed on the far wall, and noticed, with great apprehension, all of the frown lines and the leather-like skin that had come to adorn his neck, showing his true age. He had lost several inches of height over the years as his back slowly began to hunch over from the hours spent looking at a computer screen. Looking closer at the reflection, he realized that his skin had become pale from his time wasted inside the building, but even as he noticed this change in appearance he found that what surprised him most was his all-gray hair hanging limply over his watery brown eyes. With a down-turned mouth, he moved away from the image that seemed to be taunting him with its wordless abuse of his character.
A knock sounded on the oak door, and he called out for the person to enter, grateful for the distraction.
Along with an overpowering perfume, a small woman entered who appeared to be in her mid-forties. The nametag on her pantsuit informed strangers that her name was Cecile, which seemed far too elegant for such a homely woman. A moment passed before she mustered enough courage to speak, yet her voice remained quiet as a mouse. “Sir,” she said hesitantly while looking at her drab pumps, “a man has cancelled his appointment.” While to an outsider this statement would not have seemed to be of much importance, the man seemed appalled.
“Someone had the audacity to cross me? What is this man’s name?”
“S-s-sir.” She stuttered, glancing up at him and away again, seemingly knowing how her next words would be received.  “His name has no importance to us anymore.”
At this statement from his lowly secretary, he exploded into curses and threats, further terrifying the already frightened lady. “You do not hold the authority to tell me what is and what is not of importance! I would fire you, except that no one else has the guts to work for me. You are dismissed from my presence.” The poor woman hightailed it out of there so fast that in her haste she could have beaten a gold medalist.
Once again, the man was left alone with his thoughts, and for the first time ever, he wondered if maybe his temper had gotten the better of him. Perhaps he would have even uttered a quick apology to his secretary if he had not remembered he’d never gotten the person’s name that had cancelled on him. That was another thing that had never happened to him; no one had ever ignored him before, and it would not soon transpire again.






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