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Description
“Yes, will do, George.”

“You better be sure it’s there when I need it.  I don’t like waiting!” the voice on the phone rang.

“ I’ll be sure it’s there on time.  Don’t worry about it.”

“Just be sure.” Click.

“No problems, George,” Jack said aloud as the sound of the audible click rang through his mind.

Jack slowly hung up his end.  The sudden migraine that was pounding in his head was spurred by the combination of no lunch and a stress load meant for three people.  But as the head partner of this company, he was left to clean up the mess.

He shuffled through his desk looking for one of the multiple bottles of Aspirin he kept on hand.  He found one in his top drawer next to the pile of paper clips.  Using the open water bottle sitting on his crowded desk he popped back three pills.  He took five minutes to wait for the pills to kick in before he used the intercom to ask his secretary to prepare the necessary documents.

“Sally, I need the reports of last years gross, ASAP.”

“Right away, boss.”

Jack stood up from behind his desk and walked over to his laptop, which was sitting on the coffee table in his settee.  Not unlike his desk, papers were strewn across the table, on the floor, and across the sofa only leaving a small path across the floor to the sofa where there was room enough for one person to sit.  Most days and nights Jack would be found sitting in that cleared section, head hung, fingers speeding across the laptop.

He sat there now, in the empty space on the sofa, and opened his laptop carefully.  On the screen was the already prepared document he had carefully construed the past week.  Now, as of 9:00 this morning, the entire project was shit.  All his long, painful hours of tedious work down the drain.

There was a soft knock on the door and then, without a reply, the door slowly opened to reveal a young woman of 23 standing in the crack of light pouring in.

“Mr. Marlon, the documents you asked for?”

“Yes, thank you, Sally.”

Realizing Jack was not about to get up, Sally ventured into his office to the settee that had taken on a dark, cavernous air the past month.  She looked around the area not wanting to disturb her boss’s strange organization.

“Just set them anywhere you see fit, Sally.  I’m not going to be here much longer anyway.”

“Don’t say that, Mr. Marlon.  You make the company, they can’t fire you!”

“Thank you for your concern, Sally, but it’s not the company I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Never mind.  Thank you for your time, Sally,” Jack replied dismissively.

“Of course, Mr. Marlon,” and with that Sally turned around and walked slowly out of the office, barely making a sound.

Jack waited until he heard the muffled sound of the office door closing behind her, then he picked up the pile of papers Sally had just placed on the coffee table.  He slowly flipped through the pages merely glancing at the facts and figures filling every page.  They were perfect.  Of course the perfection of the files wasn’t of normal concern, for everything manufactured from and of this company is expected to be perfect.  However, to the perceptive eyes of Jack Marlon, this summary was too perfect for comfort.

After Sally found the all-too-perfect file sitting on her desk one morning, Jack instantly left room for concern.  He ordered Sally to find the person responsible for the files and to send him or her to his office immediately.  Jack’s apprehension only grew when no one in the building would take responsibility for the mysterious file.  Wherever this folder came from, whoever placed it in the office was getting too close for comfort.

With no questions answered, and more brewing, Jack felt another sleepless night awaiting him.  But first, he thought, I should find myself some food, and a new shirt.  Regretfully he got up from his work and left his office.
An hour later, Jack was back in his office with no apparent changes to the data, and no miraculous brainstorms.  With a clean shirt on his back, and food in his belly and in his hand he walked the dreaded path back to his workstation.  Preparing to bunker down for another long night.

Description
“Yes, will do, George.”

“You better be sure it’s there when I need it.  I don’t like waiting!” the voice on the phone rang.

“ I’ll be sure it’s there on time.  Don’t worry about it.”

“Just be sure.” Click.

“No problems, George,” Jack said aloud as the sound of the audible click rang through his mind.

Jack slowly hung up his end.  The sudden migraine that was pounding in his head was spurred by the combination of no lunch and a stress load meant for three people.  But as the head partner of this company, he was left to clean up the mess.

He shuffled through his desk looking for one of the multiple bottles of Aspirin he kept on hand.  He found one in his top drawer next to the pile of paper clips.  Using the open water bottle sitting on his crowded desk he popped back three pills.  He took five minutes to wait for the pills to kick in before he used the intercom to ask his secretary to prepare the necessary documents.

“Sally, I need the reports of last years gross, ASAP.”

“Right away, boss.”

Jack stood up from behind his desk and walked over to his laptop, which was sitting on the coffee table in his settee.  Not unlike his desk, papers were strewn across the table, on the floor, and across the sofa only leaving a small path across the floor to the sofa where there was room enough for one person to sit.  Most days and nights Jack would be found sitting in that cleared section, head hung, fingers speeding across the laptop.

He sat there now, in the empty space on the sofa, and opened his laptop carefully.  On the screen was the already prepared document he had carefully construed the past week.  Now, as of 9:00 this morning, the entire project was shit.  All his long, painful hours of tedious work down the drain.

There was a soft knock on the door and then, without a reply, the door slowly opened to reveal a young woman of 23 standing in the crack of light pouring in.

“Mr. Marlon, the documents you asked for?”

“Yes, thank you, Sally.”

Realizing Jack was not about to get up, Sally ventured into his office to the settee that had taken on a dark, cavernous air the past month.  She looked around the area not wanting to disturb her boss’s strange organization.

“Just set them anywhere you see fit, Sally.  I’m not going to be here much longer anyway.”

“Don’t say that, Mr. Marlon.  You make the company, they can’t fire you!”

“Thank you for your concern, Sally, but it’s not the company I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Never mind.  Thank you for your time, Sally,” Jack replied dismissively.

“Of course, Mr. Marlon,” and with that Sally turned around and walked slowly out of the office, barely making a sound.

Jack waited until he heard the muffled sound of the office door closing behind her, then he picked up the pile of papers Sally had just placed on the coffee table.  He slowly flipped through the pages merely glancing at the facts and figures filling every page.  They were perfect.  Of course the perfection of the files wasn’t of normal concern, for everything manufactured from and of this company is expected to be perfect.  However, to the perceptive eyes of Jack Marlon, this summary was too perfect for comfort.

After Sally found the all-too-perfect file sitting on her desk one morning, Jack instantly left room for concern.  He ordered Sally to find the person responsible for the files and to send him or her to his office immediately.  Jack’s apprehension only grew when no one in the building would take responsibility for the mysterious file.  Wherever this folder came from, whoever placed it in the office was getting too close for comfort.

With no questions answered, and more brewing, Jack felt another sleepless night awaiting him.  But first, he thought, I should find myself some food, and a new shirt.  Regretfully he got up from his work and left his office.
An hour later, Jack was back in his office with no apparent changes to the data, and no miraculous brainstorms.  With a clean shirt on his back, and food in his belly and in his hand he walked the dreaded path back to his workstation.  Preparing to bunker down for another long night.