The sounds of rummaging can be heard outside your office. You push the door open with a lovers touch, but do not enter. I am in your office, wrecking the place, searching for something.
“Come on, where is it. Where’s the review, it’s got to be here somewhere!”
I toss a file over my shoulder, turn around, see you. Freeze.
“Ah, you’re back. Listen, I know it was you – you stole my review, plagiarized it. Just hand it over and I’ll consider us squared.”
You gaze around your office space. It’s trashed.
“Come on, I know you have it. The review! Scoot’s Duel serial? The tech-noir one? Don’t play dumb with me.”
You look at the door jamb. It’s busted.
“I talked about how each chapter kept me engaged and invested, how the characters were excellent, solid interplay? The perceived discrepancies turn to intriguing developments? The fascinating world! Come on, you know what I’m talking about!”
You see your lunch on your desk, half eaten, not by you.
“Uh, ignore that. Focus – my review: I know you have it. It was eloquent and informative, the way I praised Scoot for his minimalist world building, the detail level and explanations and overall length, the ending, all excellent! Where is it.”
The distinct muffle-buzz of a text on silent. You glance at my jacket pocket. I hold out a solitary finger, remove my phone and read the message. I put my phone back in my pocket
“That was Erica Drayton over at TIF Press. She uh, she said thanks, she received my review. I guess. Hah… Whoopsie.”
I inch passed you to exit your office.
“Maybe check out that serial, yeah? Here’s a discount,” I hand you a sticky note, “Yeah. And the, uh, the wrap is good.”
I gesture a thumb over my shoulder. You glance at your half eaten lunch.
“Never had a steak and Caesar wrap before.”
I give your shoulder a weird-uncle pat, nod, turn, and walk away.
