Weekly Writing Challenge: Lunch Posts
It feels like a Monday. We all gather as a collective in the queue. Busier than usual as people push and shove as if like school children. I hear in the distance some arguing “Why did you get me this? You know I hate it.” I turn to see the commotion. It’s some elderly couple who hate but love each other. There out of place here as.
Suits fill the cafe today. Bash of the briefcase here. A nudge of the elbow there. All are like robots with a phone attached to their heads. Chatting, chatting down the line. “I want it on my desk by Monday. Do you hear me? Monday!” One shouts as if directly into my ear. Is it not Monday?