THE BREAK ROOM - a 20-minute prose exercise

Here’s my 20-minute prose exercise for today. If you’d like to share yours, you can email me here. I’m working on getting a place to share them publicly (anonymously) on here if that’s something you’d like. If not, I’m happy to provide private feedback via email.

THE BREAK ROOM

They sat across from me at the next table over. Their backs to me. I watched as their cream-colored suits all lined up in a row at the table of eight.

“Oh my God,” one of them said. “Did you see what she was wearing?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in that mess,” said another.

I watched as they ate their three pieces of allotted vegetable and swallowed their off-yellow drink, the kind they have to shake before they can consume it.

I stirred my tea, Earl Grey, and tried not to eavesdrop, but I’m only human.

“Allistair is getting let go today, have you heard?” the head of the eight said.

The others gasped, astonished.

“What happened?” they asked.

Their leader leaned in close. “Security found undocumented calories in his pocket,” he whispered.

“Really? Allistair? I thought he had more brains than that.”

“Evidently not.”

My heart raced and I could feel my face flush. I tried not to look up at them. Carefully, I removed a small foil wrap from my slacks pocket. It was a dinner roll, the first one I’d had all year. I didn’t know security was doing random searches that day. I had to dispose of it quick. I stood quietly and tried to leave the break room unnoticed.

“Bryant,” their leader called after me. “Come here for a second.”

I wanted to pretend I didn’t hear him, but he had seniority over me, and I had already received my second violation this quarter.

A third was automatic termination.

“We were just talking about Allistair, old boy. Have you heard?”

“N-no,” I stammered. “What happened?”

“N-n-n-no,” one of the eight mocked.

The rest laughed, even the leader, but he motioned me to join them regardless.

“You can’t be too careful, eh, Bryant?” The leader eyed me close while patting me on my back. “Sit with us.”

I did so reluctantly.

“Been staying out of trouble?” one of them asked knowing full well I’d received two demerits by the flags on my coat.

“Now, now,” the leader said. “Bryant does his best. Don’t forget each of us flirted with two flags in the past.”

A security detail entered the break room.

“Uh, oh,” the leader said. “I wonder who’s next.” He winked at me.

He knew or at the least suspected. I had to think of a way out of this…

I glanced at the leader’s slacks. His side pocket was unclasped, a violation in and of itself. I steadied my hand best I could.

“Up against the wall, all of you,” the head of security said.

As we stood, I slipped the wrapped dinner roll in the leader’s open side pocket. As I did, I bumped into the table knocking over his vita-drink.

“Jesus, Bryant!” the leader exclaimed, off-yellow liquid staining his cream-colored clothes.

“He’s pissed himself,” one of the others said, laughing.

“Against the wall, now,” the security said again, this time more forceful.

We gathered against the wall, backs to the detail, palms flat against the cool faux brick.

One-by-one they checked us from head to toe, the handheld x-ray scanner checking every inch of our clothes and bodies.

And then they scanned me. Sweat trickled down my cheeks.

The leader of eight smiled at me, his eyes a sinister grey.

“He’s clear,” the security guard said.

The leader of eight was astonished, but not as shocked as when the same guard pulled a dinner roll from his slack pocket.

“That’s not mine,” he yelled in panic. “Check him again,” he pointed at me. “He’s the one! Check him! I’m a good citizen. I’m a good citizen.”

As he was dragged away, one of the security detail approached me and removed one of the flags on my coat and gave me a wink.
And that is how I became the new leader of eight.