Cubicles (4,1) (791 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (View user info) at 2004-12-23 19:01:47 EST
There is a connection, but only a loose one, between this and the other pieces in this little collection. They are not required reading to make sense of the writing below and you don't need to read them in any particular order.
If you do want to read them, go here:
Cubicles (1,1) - http://www.ubersite.com/m/52685
Cubicles (2,3) - http://www.ubersite.com/m/52983
Cubicles (3,2) - http://www.ubersite.com/m/53182
Cubicles (3,4) - http://www.ubersite.com/m/55096
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Sharp ebony-nailed fingers flew across the keyboard. From beneath an angled raven fringe and three times the recommended daily requirement of black eye makeup, Selena glared at her monitor as the report took form.
Loud staccato keystrokes emanated from her cubicle, as she typed, hunched over the desk. Many moons ago, her neutral grey walls had been plastered with dark images. Select works from Giger jostled for space with plutonian phantasms and scenes inspired by the works of Stoker and Lovecraft.
The Supervisor had expressed some displeasure at her choice of cubicle decoration. Tall and angular, she merely stood to her full height - her immaculately polished boots providing an extra three inches - and coldly stared him down. Like many others, he wilted beneath her icy gaze, and retreated to the relative comfort of his private corner office. She enjoyed the effect she had on people.
Her co-workers tended to avoid her, gossiping about her in hushed tones, as they scurried about in their meaningless corporate existences. Conformist drones, the lot of them. All of them striving for the gold-Rolex-3-series-BMW-well-appointed-home-in-a-fashionable-suburb lifestyle that would never fill the voids in their souls, even if they could attain it. The middle-aged woman with the penchant for floral designs and love of Jesus in her heart had tried once or twice to save what was left of Selena's soul, with very little success.
There was a time when she could have identified with them; bright-faced, clad in warm earthy tones and fresh out of business school. The corporate ladder was hers to climb, her ideas would fuel a well-oiled business machine - together they would prosper. Or so she thought. The glorious symbiotic relationship she craved turned out to be little more than perverted corporate bondage and vampirism. The more effort and life she poured into her success, the tighter the company's grip on her grew, and the more life it sucked out of her.
With time, everything turned to black, her clothes, her makeup, the interior of her cubicle and her moods. She no longer aspired to ascend to the lofty heights of management, but rather was out to prove that no matter what the company threw at her, she would not falter and fall. Very few came to realize their true value to the company and continued their employment. Upon realizing that their personal value, and the value of their contributions stood precariously close to nothing many could not bear it, and simply up and left.
Not her. She would craft report after report, sending them knowingly to the sacrificial altar in the boardrooms upstairs. Runes of protection inscribed in henna around her wrists, muttering dark incantations while composing memoranda. Twice, whilst her reports circulated upstairs, the entire management computer system had mysteriously crashed, wiping hard-drives clean. Every minor blow she landed was a major victory against the powers that be, proof that she would not be broken. Every defeat would merely ignite an otherworldly flame behind her eyes and strengthen her resolve.
With a final click, her latest executive sacrifice was ready. She would save it to a memory stick and personally present it to the Supervisor. Standing, surveying him as he proofread it, answering every query with a pitch and demeanor honed to highlight the Supervisor's abysmal knowledge base and ineffectuality as her superior.
Few willingly approached the Supervisor, much less welcomed his critique in person. Despite the fear he instilled in his other charges, he could never replicate the effect on her. Instead, he would glance at her unsurely, as she leant nonchalantly against a piece of his much-coveted designer office furniture, unable to dismiss her. She would stand and wait, through phone calls if necessary, until he had completed the task.
Only then would she turn, and saunter back to her desk, on the corner of the group of cubicles, pull a nail file from her drawer and begin sharpening her claws, in preparation for the next sacrifice.
User Reviews
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-01-10 18:26:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
2 kickass series at the same time?
I think I will just give up.
-Dave
Submitted by CJRipley (user info) at 2004-12-24 10:06:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2004-12-24 09:59:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Man I love this series...
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2004-12-24 09:52:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2004-12-24 01:33:09 (#)
Ranking: 2
Cubicles and Unlife... YOu have anything else up your sleeve, ID?
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A couple of ideas swirling around, but nothing concrete yet... Unlife is nearing its conclusion, I will probably spring something new out when that happens...
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2004-12-24 01:33:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Cubicles and Unlife... YOu have anything else up your sleeve, ID?
Submitted by The_Walrus (user info) at 2004-12-24 00:03:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hmmm
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2004-12-23 21:41:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Glad to see that this one had a satisfactory amount of flair for you.
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2004-12-23 21:41:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was good reading. (Even tho I'm avoiding relatives by pretending to be working and type type typing away like I'm reviewing Updike's latest novel.) I've gotta get outta here, this was nice escape. Much thanks
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-12-23 20:59:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Can I talk to you via some sort of instant messaging platform? AIM- LadyPlural MSN- lady.plural.at.gmail.com
If you aren't on any of those, but you are on any of the others, tell me which and I'll get onto that one.
Kickass story. I like that chick.
Submitted by ellieo (user info) at 2004-12-23 19:57:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by tech-junkie (user info) at 2004-12-23 19:20:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting