Ficlets

Justine slogged into work early Monday morning, dreading another 8 hours of absolute torture. She tossed her jacket over the back of the chair in her cubicle, shoved her frozen lunch onto a shelf in the over-packed company refrigerator, and headed off for the “library.”

In the library, she proceeded to the back left corner and grabbed an armload of books off the lowest shelf. She couldn’t remember if she had visited this section recently, but then again, did it really matter?

After returning to her desk, Justine powered up the computer. While it booted up, she perused today’s list. It looked like someone hit a gold mine – twenty pages of names from a major university.

Her program opened. She grabbed a random book, opened to a random page and typed into her window: “Emma leaned closer to Mr. Cary.” She tossed the book aside, opened another: “But the island was too small.” Toss, grab, type. “Physcon should marry Cleopatra.”

Finally, she carefully entered: “V1@gra 4 sale!!1!!” and a link.

What a crappy job.