How He Got His Vacation Time_The Park_Deja vu_Being a beautiful butterfly.
Catalog Guide:
How He Got His Vacation Time
He did not take the news very well. “Why do you hate me, Jim?” “Danny…” “Daniel. I told you that many times. Now, why do you hate me?” Jim Stephens, a man who had managed Daniel Simon’s team for only six months and already wanted out, held his head up and repeated what he said. “All staff is going to be required to work through the long weekend. All vacation time is therefore reduced for essential workers.” “Essential…” “Look…” “How essential am I? All the paperwork is in and you won’t even need to have me on for the group projects.” “Yes. That is right. Group projects.” Jim found an opening t...
The Park
I wwww.onedoor.ccas born in Bangalore, way before the corporate revolution hit India. We were satisfied with routine jobs and stable life. But my hometown was something else. The old British roads were still intact. The neatly spaced lines of copper pods never ceased to turn with the season. The air always seemed to smell of light vapor. The rainy seasons were particularly brilliant. Drinking spicy chai as the rain lightly flecked my face, that is definitely something I miss. Even the cold winters always brought a sense of warmth. The summers were never unbearable but hot enough for us to embrace them.And I...
Deja vu
Monday morning, the 15th, Becky cross’ the date off with a red marker, keeping track of the days of the week. ‘Monday, Tuesday, yeah, that’s it, today is Monday, right?” Becky muses to herself, gulping down the coffee before grabbing her keys from the bathroom counter. “Simple,” Becky said to herself, trudging down the steps from her one-room flat to the hotel’s lobby. ‘Hope, there has to be hope,’ seeing the clientele that’s now calling the hotel their home as more people lost their jobs because of the pandemic. Becky, her eyes cast down, avoiding their eyes, who, unlike her, don’t have work...
Being a beautiful butterfly.
My mother has been dead for years now but I am still inside this apartment that we shared, under the blankets. And now my stomach churn and toes curl and muscles twist and twitch and shiver as the skin over my cheeks and arm soak more of the salty water blurring out from my vision. I still wait under these covers for her to wake me up like she used to do back when I used to groan at her annoying shouts and all her lectures about how I can become a better person but now that she doesn't do it anymore and the fact that she must be searching for me in the afterlife but I am not able to do anythin...