Gibson’s mum was waiting for him at his doorstep as he returned from his work place. She didn’t look all that happy. “How many times have I told you to get a mobile phone before work? And how much are these hours you're going to make me pay for the phone when you go on your own again?” she scolded him. Her voice was stern and it sent chills up his spine. “You should be home by now, young man, not out playing with those boys again! They aren't going to do anything good if they don't have proper supervision!" she lectured. He felt guilty about ditching his friends earlier that day after school to come and fetch him, but they had insisted he had to help them study for a biology test coming up soon, and he couldn't back down. It would look bad on him to say no to them, considering what a great bunch of friends they were. So he'd said yes despite feeling like a hypocrite, thinking deep in his heart, "If I'm not there to protect them, then maybe it's time to step up." That's when he decide
As Gibson sat in his office, his thoughts returned to how he got into this position in the first place. It had started with a simple question, as most of his jobs did, “Do you have any books about a character named John Smith?” And as if that weren’t enough, a series of small encounters followed by one really long one and a very awkward one at the end led to him being offered a job here. He had turned it down, he wanted nothing to do with it. But now, sitting behind this desk, looking at the stacks of paper that covered his walls, he couldn’t turn it down again. He needed this gig. A chance to make some money. And who better to work for than his own favorite character. The storyteller John Smith who, according to all the papers, was fictional. He knew this, but still it didn't stop him from writing. He had already written the first draft and it had been rejected, so what else would he have left to write? He wasn’t allowed back at university yet, which is why he worked here instead o
Gibson was forced to sing along at his business tea party. The woman he was with was a big fan and the song seemed appropriate enough that she started humming it loudly as they talked about her latest book. He couldn’t help but be envious of this person, this girl who knew so many interesting things and had such an exciting life, yet he was stuck here in the boring office of a company that made no money. He wasn’t complaining though - the pay sucked ass and being alone in the room with his boss all day was probably worse - but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. The woman continued to hum and sing, which annoyed him even more, and eventually she looked up and smiled when she realized what she was doing. “Oh, sorry! I keep singing! I do this sometimes to help myself think. I have trouble not singing if I can't talk to someone. It helps my brain to get away from reality.” She paused for a second, seemingly lost in thought before she shook herself out of it. “Sorry you have to list
Gibson read through the book he found on his office desk and grimaced at it. There was no reason to be upset about it, really, but he couldn’t help himself - he had been doing so well with this one! He had made a decent dent in his stack of files, he even had written half of what he needed for the article, which meant that he had to do something else soon! It wasn’t like him to let things drag out like this, but after last night - well, if there was anything that could get the better of him, it was stress, and stress sucked. He should have known better than to get distracted by that guy’s phone number, though! He didn’t deserve the chance, not when Gibson was just beginning to work his way up. But it was all gone now. He had forgotten the date, and he could barely remember any details from before he went home last night, and the only time he had remembered them was during the day. And then, well, then there were all those people who were still in his head - the ones who kept talking
“I want to speak to Gibson,” the light skinned lady said sternly as she entered the office, her voice low and dangerous. It was not a question, it was an order, and the man at the desk knew better than to disobey it. He quickly picked up his phone and dialed Gibson’s number. The woman waited impatiently as he tried to connect the two calls, and when that failed, she turned to face him expectantly. Her face was hard and determined and made her eyes look darker than they normally would. She had dark circles under her eyes that made them seem bruised. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked like someone who was about to get her way, which was probably true. She stood there looking intimidating until Gibson answered his cell, “Yes? Is everything alright?” His voice sounded worried and confused, and the woman felt a pang of guilt for scaring him with what she had been going to say earlier. “Hi Gibson, it’s me. I just... need a little help to
Gibson couldn’t feel his arms again as he had over used them at the his workplace earlier that day. He had tried to carry a huge amount of paperwork for his boss’s office when he had gotten home, but it had been too much, and had dropped everything. The paper had made little to no dent in his overall mass, so he’d put on a shirt to protect it from the cold of the night. When it started to rain while he was on his way back to the office, however, he had lost all hope of getting the papers back to his boss before the storm began. So here he was again. He sighed and walked around the corner of an apartment building with no door visible, trying to get some cover from the rain by leaning against one of its walls. It seemed like the right decision, however, as he could see that the entrance to the apartment building was only five feet away, so it was just about possible for him to get inside without the water being wet through. He pushed off from the wall and started walking towards the ent
Gibson's voice echoed through the office as he stared at his mother, a mix of surprise and confusion on his face. Colleagues turned to see what the commotion was about, creating an awkward silence. His mother, wearing a hesitant smile, approached him, breaking the tension in the air. "Surprise, dear. I thought I'd drop by and see where you spend your days," she said, trying to lighten the mood. Gibson, still processing the unexpected encounter, struggled to find words in the midst of the curious gazes around him.Gibson, still grappling with the shock, managed to stammer out a response, "I... What are you doing here, Mom? I didn't expect you to visit my workplace."His mother, a middle-aged woman with a warm demeanor, chuckled nervously. "Well, I wanted to surprise you, dear. Your father and I thought it would be nice to see where our hardworking son spends most of his time."Gibson's mind raced as he tried to comprehend the situation. He never imagined his mother would appear unannou
Gibson left his office very early that night and decided to go out to dinner with a friend. It was something he always did when the day started to drag on and it was still relatively new for him. He wasn't used to working long hours and so he enjoyed being able to go out without any work in tow. Plus, his friend could be a bit of an eccentric and they had never gotten along too well but they also understood each other. And since his best friend was a journalist and his own editor, their friendship worked like a magnet.He went to his usual restaurant and picked a spot near the window because it looked out over a small garden. There were few people milling around outside and most lights inside were off. This made it easy for him to sit with his back against the wall and enjoy his meal before heading home. As he ate he saw two young ladies approach one another and start talking animatedly while giggling about whatever. He smiled to himself as he continued chewing, watching them with amu