Ficlets

“You’re late!” she enthused. “Come on, its time for the staff meeting.”

I could not believe how excited this otherwise sophisticated young woman seemed to be to get to a staff meeting, on a Monday mornings of all times.

I had only been working at GlobTrak for 10 minutes, and already it was tiring me. I had a small baby at home, and midnight puking sessions do not inspire you to bright eyed and bushy tailed mornings.

As we hurried through the maze of corridors thronged with young, vibrant and stylish staffers, I asked: “So why did you hire an old fogey like me again?”, looking around meaningfully.

“Oh you!” she giggled, “you’re only thirty five. And besides, we need a grey-beard to take control of our software development, things are far too chaotic at the moment.”

I basked in her admiration for all of five seconds until the idea of a chaotic team of software developers and the associated havoc hit me squarely between the eyes.

We walked into the meeting, and I realised what she was so enthusiastic over.