Here’s a short story. Typo hunters, welcome. Hope you enjoy my fiction. Still working on my microfiction skills.
I lost the race. I was panting when you patted me on the back. After that last smack, your hand slid down my spine a ways. Rebecca from billing was at your side already, announcing how proud she was of you and the diet she’s got you on. I decided I’d have to double the extra sugars I’ve been dumping into your coffee. The next day, you asked me about the tally marks on the laminated paper hung up in my cubical. I told you it was how many times you’d left your desk to fix Elroy’s laptop. You counted them and you looked amazed. Yes, it was a lot, I said. After you hung up your phone later that day and told me to put another tally on the board, I complied. I rubbed it off before you got back. When Rebecca called you just before your lunch, I put in my headphones. When you laughed at something she said, my stomach soured. I went through the lunch boxes in the breakroom until I found the gray one with DANNY written with purple sharpie. I replaced your light mayo tuna sandwiches with one of my real mayonnaise ones. Tomorrow I’ll swap out your avocado for a turkey. I also cook a few extra strips of bacon every few mornings, just in case. One day soon I won’t have to put a tally on the board. One day, she’ll smell the wrong food on your breath or notice the pudge over your abs. One day she’ll leave you.