The 15th Time
A Creative Writing Flash Fiction by Ariel Rojas
 

C’mon, this can’t be happening!

I wiggled the mouse against its pad, the white pixelated arrow standing still against my desperate attempts to move it. The computer had frozen again for the fifteenth time in a row, seemingly deciding it’s fifteenth time to be exactly when I need to print the last pages of the team report.

With a sigh, I slump against the back of my office chair, hiding behind the computer monitor. I lower my elbows onto the slick counter, covering my ears with my hands. Bruce Springsteen's “Dancing in the Dark” is blaring through the office's overhead speakers for what must be the fiftieth time since I started working here.

It has only been fifteen days since I got this job, and I was, as the lyrics go, “Sick of sitting around here, trying to write this book”. But instead of a book, it was this thousand-page report that was meant to mean nothing less than a boring stack on the boss's desk, and possibly a new dust collector in his office.

I let out a yawn, my finger tips reaching for the white coffee mug resting on the desk. It didn’t help that I had crammed this report last night, because now, those hours of sleep were going to catch up with me soon. I took a sip, hoping the caffeine would block the drowsiness, and that soon, the pixelated screen would turn back to normal, and the report would be handed in right on time.

So I watched,

And blinked, 

Until,

Beep. Beep.

I sprang up, my eyes widening at the screen. The pixels had switched, forming a new screen, displaying the ‘print button’ in the middle. The last file had finally been downloaded. A crease formed in my lips, the cursor pressing against the button instantly.

In a swift motion, I rose from my seat. Eyes darting to the clock against the white wall, I had a solid amount of time before it’s due time.

And, a smile slowly pulled at my lips. I was early. I was actually early. After growing accustomed to desperately typing whatever I came up with, or randomly pressing buttons against the printer to make it go faster, this had to be the first time I had spare time to take a breather for once.

My footsteps pressed against the floor of the echoey hallway, a half-grin, half-shock expression was plastered over me, as if a blessing had finally happened, and whatever divine power took some weight off my shoulders. And, this feeling stayed with me all the way as I printed the papers, stapled them together, walked back, and stood in front of the boss's office.

Should I make a grand entrance? Put on a smug smile? I couldn’t wait, rolling my shoulders back before my knuckles met the door in two quick knocks.

“Come in!”

I pushed the wooden door open without much second thought, stepping inside with a confidence that I wished I had back in high school. The office, as usual, was just as plain as ever, shelves lined with folders that probably hadn’t been touched in years, the faint smell of paper and something bitter lingering in the air. Behind the desk, he sat in his usual spot, leaning back slightly in his chair, one hand absentmindedly spinning a pen between his fingers like some kid.

If the company's standards were this low to hire someone like that, you might as well have applied for this rather than some drained office worker.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, his tone as boring as eating a white bread slice on its own.
 

I let out a cough, but he was as uninterested as before. In a single motion, I stepped forward and placed the stack of papers onto his desk with a soft but deliberate thud, the sound cutting cleanly through his office.

“The team report is done,” I state, a pleased smirk taped on my lips, closing my eyes while my chin raised just a bit to feel that dose of superiority. I stood like that for around a second, expecting anything but silence as a response. I blinked, narrowing my gaze to his semi-surprised, but mostly neutral expression.

“The whole thing?”

“Yeah”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“Did you check grammar?”

God, take a clue.

“Of course”

“Then let’s read it.”

His fingers slowly reached for the stack, reaching for the first set without much care. Licking his thumb, he started to flick through each page, his eyes moving up and down through each sentence inked into it.

But he flicked through each page too fast, and the neutral expression flipped around, replaced dramatically by one you had never believed was possible between the creased folds of his face.

“What?” He blurted out, tossing the paper back down onto the desk.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He shouted, eyebrows furrowing downwards, pointing towards the thrown pages.

It didn’t take me a second; it took me less to realize that between his expression and my initial shock were scattered papers containing nothing at all. And by nothing at all, I mean they were utterly blank.

“W-what?” I blurt back, eyes widening as I desperately search through all the pages, realizing the freshly set of papers I had recently stapled neatly were filled with nothing but plain white.

This had to be a joke, maybe you had grabbed the wrong set, or perhaps this was a terrible joke by one of your co-workers. Before you were able to come up with any other excuse, nagging words had already started to slip through his mouth, fingers swaying right at you in an irritable way.
“This has to be a mistake, I placed the-” The words tangled in my throat, held back by the sharp cut of a heavy beeping sound.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

And then I blinked,

And a gasp escaped from my lips.

My cheeks were pressed against a cold surface, a pool of drool sitting comfortably against it. Eyes perking up, they sat still as they watched the pixelated screen continue to spin the wheel around slowly, the ‘loading’ message still where it was.

You sighed, eyes tightening as your fingers still clung to the mouse.

This had to be the next fifteenth excuse to write that resignation letter.