Ficlets

“Today’s going to be OK,” I thought to myself. I tell myself that every morning, but today I really meant it. Last night I sat down and got organized, writing up a checklist to keep the day running smoothly.

1. Keys? Check. I won’t have to poke my head into the secretary’s office to say, “Peg? Um, can you unlock my office door again?”

2. Wallet? Check. I already owe Jeff $48.92 for covering my lunch bills.

3. Watch? Check (and synchronized with the U. S. Naval Observatory). Missing the train is not a good way to start your commute.

With my backpack full of my remembered things, I whistled as I walked from the train station to the office building. The sun was out and the birds were singing; it was a beautiful morning.

My boss was in his reserved parking spot, closing the door of his BMW as I walked by.

“Good morning, sir!” I said.

“Nice to see you in this early,” he replied. I was tallying the brownie points in my head.

“Um, Mr. Stone?” he said, inquisitively.

“Yes, sir?”

“Where are your pants?”