The Lottery
POSTED BY: PIRATENEWS
UPDATED: Friday, September 28, 2012 02:25
VIEWED: 3524
PAGE 1 of 1
The bright morning sun is streaming through the windows as ANGIE walks down the corridor, tucking in her blouse then buttoning her final fastener. Better leave some cleavage or the girls in the steno pool might notice something...different. She smiled as she recalled his moans of ecstasy, then the smile on his face, his hug and a kiss. Then he swatted her behind and threw her panties at her. Angie loves it when her boss does brunch. She loves her job, and does it with style, so she tells herself.
BILL peers from his cubicle at Angie, sashaying down the hall with a mischievous grin on her face, her eyes vacant as if recalling a sun-drenched Bahamian beach. How Bill wishes she were on that beach with him, sipping an ice-cold Mohito, wearing only that beautiful grin. He combs his comb-over and attempts a smile as Angie walks past, oblivious to his plight. He accidentally bumps his pencil holder as pens and his favorite Gumby eraser fall on the carpet, nearly stabbing the hapless secretary.
Angie awakens from her daydream, and frowns at her would-be Prince Charming. She puts her hands on her curvatious hips and applies her patented pout, giving Bill the Evil Eye, with one false eyelash nearly crashing to the ground.
Bill stumbles into action to clear a path for his Sleeping Beauty. His eyeglasses slip off his misshapen nose and he crushes them under bended knee in his haste to service his goddess. As he picks up the last of his toolkit, he looks up at Angie's rising breasts, clearly aroused as seen through her sheer top. She frowns down at her nemesis, then starts to smile a little. Nothing can ruin her day today. Nothing like a good bang to start her day.
Bill smiles back, assuming she is smiling at him. She gives him a cocky swish of her long golden hair as she glides over his prostrate body. Bill watches her bodacious ass walk down the aisle then turn left towards the secretarial section. Someday he'll get his own secretary, just as soon as he gets that promotion he's been waiting 10 years for. He looks at Gumby in hand, and nods his head Yes. He's glad she didn't read that joke email telling workers to stay home today, something about a mysterious strike.
Bill feels the ground shake, once, twice, three times. Earthquake? No, it felt more like 1993, only much stronger. Remember when six people died? Oh, that's ridiculous, he tells himself. That blind Muslim preacher went to jail, and all is safe in the world. The steel core is impervious to any attack, the engineers and talking heads promised on TV.
20 seconds later, a fireball explodes next door, 80 floors above Ground Zero. Flames shoot 100 yards out the side of the steel skyscraper. Bills sees the flames out the corner of his eye, turning slowly towards the window outside his cubicle. Black noxious smoke billows like a forest fire from the gaping wounds of World Trade Center Tower 2. Screams emanate from the half empty cubicles around him, fading to a hollow fugue.
Bill walks slowly to the window and stares mute, his mouth wide open, face expressionless, watching the smoke rise from the flaming hole. Reaching up to rub his clean-shaven double chin, he ponders what just happened? What day is it? A nearby calendar catches his eye -- the eleventh of September. Did he remember to take out the trash?
Bill hears an announcement over the public address system, wah wah wah, somthing about staying at his desk. Let the authorities do their job. Nothing to see here. Some such garbage. Why wouldn't he stay at his desk? He did the same in 93, he proudly remembers his bravery and smiles. Coworkers run frantically to the exits. Cowards, he looks at them with disgust. It's just a little fire, can't they see it's almost out? Look over there, workers are now standing in the holes, looking out, there's nothing to fear. The firemen will have in under control in a New York Minute. You just wait and see, he nods to his boss, running with his pants undone, tripping as he reaches the elevator door. Bill turns slowly back to t
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