Photo by Valeria Boltneva on


“I love my life like my fries, plain and unsalted.” She then waltzed out of the room with her head held high. There was a lot of confusion left after her dramatic exit. Was it a metaphor or one of her sarcastic remarks? She had a tongue that spewed words with double meanings, one had to be attentive or else they would mess up. I was sure nothing could faze that woman not even when the winds came howling leaving in their wake destruction and turmoil. She was a limited edition; that first magazine that is never unwrapped.

woman in brown dress holding her hair
Photo by Israelzin Oliveira on

Working for her was a cocktail of emotions, some days were better than others. If she wore a smile, a storm was brewing; quiet and simmering waiting for a trigger. When she strode in with a blank face, the heavens would rejoice and the guards would break out in a dance. She was an opposite, never conforming to the patterns of the world. Each day was like unlocking a new level of Jumanji. We lived on edge around her, all needles and bunched up underwear, waiting for an avalanche to carry us away.

closeup photo of cactus plants
Photo by Madison Inouye on

“Nara, get yourself in here!” My heart stopped beating for a moment and sweat pooled at my armpits. I had recently submitted a story that cost me sleepless nights aiming for perfection. ‘I have messed up. I am going to be fired. My cats will be taken away for adoption. My flat is due for rent, I will be auctioned…’ My trail of thoughts was cut off when I saw her beaming. She was beaming! THIS WAS A MIRACLE!!

“This is what I signed up for when I joined this company. Nara I must say this is an excellent job. I want your story to be on the front page of the next edition.” My brain shut down completely. My ears they probably were deaf perks of using public transport, the music was so loud your heart could stop beating and you wouldn’t notice. Slowly the chains in my brain started moving  and the waterworks began. I had waited for this moment all my life. The smile I was wearing could have blinded anyone with how bright it was. She had just complimented my work. MINE. MY WORK!

By the time I got to my desk,I could barely keep it in. She. Her. The boss lady. She was proud of me. It could only get better from here.

woman in white shirt and blue denim shorts holding yellow and red balloons
Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on


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