Wednesday, July 3, 2013

The Shittest Day Ever


The prompt this week was 'tears' and this very beautiful photo.


 I was inspired by a story a friend told me of a misadventure she had to write the following. 

Thursday was the shittest day. Emma couldn't remember a time when she had had such a shit day. It was the end of the financial year, the server crashed, no one could get their work done and her boss walked around the office yelling at everyone because she couldn't do her reconciliations. The worst part was that once the server got up and running again at three pm her boss told the office that no one was going home until the reporting was finished.
Emma worked frantically. It was her friend's birthday and she wanted to go for drinks with everyone to celebrate but she still had hours of data to enter. Around four the texts started coming,

Are you coming out, it is going to be a great night!

You should get down here we are going to have a blinder!

And so on. Eventually Emma turned her phone off. Not being able to go join the drunken party was just making her day worse. Sometime around five thirty she couldn't take it anymore. If she looked at one more column of numbers she was going to smash her computer screen with her stapler. With shaking hands she climbed the fire escape stairs and burst out onto the rooftop balcony. For a few blissful moments she stood looking at the street below and the lights of the cars hurrying past on their way home forcibly blocking out the thoughts of work.
The door opened behind her shattering her moment of sanity. Footsteps crunched on the concrete behind her. Emma braced for the onslaught of work related whining. She resisted the temptation to turn and see who it was until they were standing beside her. Only when she sensed a body beside her did she turn her head slightly. A sense of relief twisted through her as she recognised Tim, one of the sales managers. He wasn't part of her team and was excused from her hellish day. His day had probably been all sunshine and lunches with clients. Emma felt a stab of jealousy but as she looked at his tall lean body the jealousy faded fast and was replaced by an intense desire to relieve him of his pants so that he could bend her over the railing and fuck the life out of her.

"I heard you guys are having a shit day," he commented quietly as he leaned against the balcony railing.

"Yep it is a ripper," she replied. They stood for a moment watching the traffic. Emma knew she should already be back at her desk but she dallied for a moment longer. Tim didn't say any more to her, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.  Disappointed Emma squared her shoulders, bracing herself before she went back into the onslaught.  "I better get back," she muttered from the corner of her mouth. She decided not to flirt. Being rejected would just make this day even more shit and she had more than enough of that.
As she took her first steps the heel of her shoe caught in a crack in the concrete and she found herself lying on the ground looking up at a startled Tim.

"Are you OK?" he asked as he bent over her. 

It was all too much, Emma burst into tears. As she lay on the concrete howling it seemed like the day couldn't possibly get any worse. Of all the people to fall over in front of and her ankle felt like she had wrenched it good and proper.  Tim hovered around looking nervous and uncertain. His flapping irritated Emma enough to make her pull herself together.
"Are you OK?" he asked again. A deep furrow formed in the middle of his forehead.

Emma took a deep breath, "I think I will be OK. My ankle hurts like hell though."

Tim reached down and carefully felt her ankle. "Yep that isn't going to tickle tomorrow. You should get some ice on it straight away." Emma pushed away thoughts of her boss and the work waiting on her desk. Emma decided this was an opportunity too good to pass up.  
"Can you stand?" Tim was entirely focussed on her ankle.

Emma stood up carefully but almost collapsed as her ankle gave way again. Tim caught her as she stumbled. Wrapped in his arms she looked up at him helplessly.
"I guess not," she smiled wryly at him. 

Tim half carried her to the first aid room where he helped her onto the bed and then fussed around looking for bandages and ice packs. Emma forgot about her throbbing ankle as he bent in front her looking for bandages in the cupboard. The denim of his jeans stretched tightly over his ass. Emma fantasised about how it would feel under her palms. When he turned around in the tiny space he fell against her. Maybe she moved her foot just a little.
"I am so sorry," he looked a little awkward and made to move away. Emma moved her good leg around his calf and pressed her hand against his crotch.

"I am not sorry," she looked into his eyes.

"Ummmmm what if someone walks in here?" Tim allowed himself to study Emma's cleavage which had suddenly appeared between some opened buttons. Just to make sure he knew what she wanted Emma gave in to the temptation and gripped his ass firmly pushing him against her.
Emma looked up with a devilish twinkle in her eyes that showed no signs of her earlier tears. "I do believe there is a lock on the door."

Perhaps Thursday would turn out to be not so shit after all.


  1. Sounds like that is the way to turn her bad day around to something great :)

    Rebel xox

  2. whoohoo! and those sales guys are supposed to know how to please the people right? lol
    Great write.