the thirtysomething cynthya

another one of my stories along the same theme- they just seem to be rolling out- i guess it is just something i know.

 

Cynthya sits at her desk in her green ergonomically correct chair. The desk is old and bulky but what could anyone expect to find in an office that is an old house donated to the non profit agency she works for. The room where she sits used to be the living room to a woman who stood a compelling 4’11 and marched the streets shouting for true democracy. Everyone in this small town knew Ms. Rhinesmith because she was always having meetings in her living room to discuss the socio-economic state of the surrounding neighborhoods. Every year you could identify when the elections were close because you would find her knocking on your door to make certain you were registered to vote. Over a decade back Ms. Rhinesmith fell ill and she decided to leave her home to an organization that represented the values and core beliefs she tried to instill in her neighborhood. People today that remember her come and tell us about her charismatic, vital life in the community. She was an effective organizer and a natural leader. This is how Cynthya ended up fortunate enough to have a place to end up behind a dark, clunky, thick, solid wooden desk today here at what is now her office.

 

Cynthya’s desk was organized usually but lately it was getting quite overwhelming, overflowing on the surface with paperwork and charts. Things would plummet to the floor every time she would answer the phone. On the wall several feet in front of her near the entrance of the house is a large portrait of Ms. Rhinesmith. When Cynthya felt overwrought by work and all going on around her, sometimes she would loose herself in the eyes and face of the gallant woman. Would she ever get up from this desk and stop isolating herself in analysis and policy? Cynthya was brilliant and numbers were natural to her. She made the office flow with her flawless reports and charts. She was terrified of speaking in public and getting out in the press to deliver her own reports but she wanted to have the courage she saw in others.  She started working for the organization because she cares so deeply for social justice and equity for all whom are mistreated, but she does not go into the community because her fears cripple her. “How did she do it?” Cynthia said out loud not realizing it.

 

“What, who did what,” asked her co worker sitting at the desk next to her having to remove her ipod earphones to respond to the question? Cynthya just shook her head motioning no feeling embarrassed that she was caught day dreaming.

 

She went back to her computer. Realizing she better get back to work, she had to send an instant message to a coworker upstairs to ask them for some information on an income tax survey. Typing in her screen name and password she paused to think of her mother. ‘Sometimes she Mom does not realize just how busy I am work and I can not talk with her like she wants me to.' Successfully signed into her service, an instant message pops on her screen...

 

YANWI31: “I miss you.”

 

The Icon just blinked orange back at her again and again and again and she knew it would until she knew she was ready to click on it. Suddenly she wished her mother was the one bothering her at work.

 

 
Cynthya decided for the sake of exercise she would run upstairs to ask for the survey because it would be much easier then sending the instant message. When she got back to her desk she realized it was already 5:30pm. She started gathering all the papers all over her desk and placing them in piles or throwing the unnecessary ones away. Everything went neatly back in folders she had set up in a silver filing system set up in her desk drawer. Her last task of her work day was to pick up the phone for an important call.

 

“HelloZenGarden I’d like to place and order for pick up.”

 

Cynthya shut down her computer and smiled knowing she would go home to enjoy her favorite meal.

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[JC Fox]

I love these stories! You should definitely make a book out of them, and I'll be able to relate to them in a few years ^_^

[SweetPeachesAlways]

This will be continued, right? I mean, c'mon. I've smelled it in the air, I can see it cooking, and yet there's no dinner? Surely you jest!

You paint a picture but you've left me hanging, or did I miss something? I read it twice because I thought I must've missed something. If there are other parts I should know about, please feel free to send them to me to read! I like the story line, although I cannot hazard a guess as to where this might lead as the possibilities are limitless. It's the Mona Lisa sans her smile!

[JC Fox]

I love your stories! This was another great piece!

[mattavelli]

Interesting, it seems things are piling up for her. :)
Great story. This is full of quiet tension, and I suppose the idea of a good meal and relaxing evening cuts it, but I think the story could use some explosions or maybe a police chase.
Have fun.

[Forest Green]

Very nice, Danielle. You are breaking into techy ground...and I think that is great.

Excellent story, sweet all the way through.

I truly enjoyed your prose.

Forest