Work day

For a moment, he casually focuses his gaze on his sleeve. He was wearing his pajamas, which made sense because he had just woken up, but he should have changed into his suit by now.

"I can't be that idiot." He curses himself and takes off his pajama top in the kitchen, runs to his room and finishes taking off his pajamas, throws them on his bed and looks for his suit hanging on the coat rack. .

After a few minutes, he was already wearing his white shirt, his black pants, the reddish tie that he always wears, (It's not that it was a precious object or anything like that, it was literally the only tie in his closet) and his black jacket. on. It was a typical outfit at work, he felt good in his full suit, but sometimes he felt suffocated, it was a strange feeling, because even with or without a tie, at work he felt that feeling from time to time. Maybe it was because I couldn't stand being surrounded for so many hours by papers, people and the sound of machines on making small sounds, but already unbearable to listen to all day.

To finish, he puts on his black shoes and walks slowly out of his house. With the clock in his hands, it has already been reported that it is still early. You can walk to work, or just call a taxi, but you don't feel like spending money on a driver who will surely be late and charge you dearly to take you a few blocks to the building where you worked. He goes down the stairs of his apartment carefully, he has never gotten used to going down and up stairs, they have always given him that feeling of taking a wrong step and falling against the floor with such force that he would have a concussion. He wanted that to happen, but with his shitty luck he would probably end up with minor injuries in a crappy hospital that would leave him in huge debt for treating those minor injuries.

He reaches the front door and leaves the apartment. His steps are calm, he walks slowly without caring much about arriving early. At this rate he would arrive on time, he had already calculated it. He looks at his front without paying attention to the city landscape. He had arrived years ago, he had that face of excitement and desire to start a new page in his life, but a few days later life reminded him that his life was not worth it and he should throw himself in front of a train and die as soon as possible. possible. The buildings are huge, the windows show people working in different positions. Richard let out a yawn, the sun slowly rose in the dark sky with bright reds, warning that dawn would begin and the sun would be seen. His dark brown hair, almost close to black, is illuminated by the sun's rays and makes its brown color lighter. The heat of the sun on his hair gives him a strange feeling, like discomfort and comfort. He doesn't know how to explain it. The sunlight made him angry because it blinded him, burned his delicate pale skin like a vampire, and continually made his life miserable in different ways, but the feeling of light heat in his hair was comfortable. It's not that he liked the heat, on the contrary, he hated summer with all his soul, but the heat in times of cold was wonderful.

Enjoy the feeling until the sun sets overhead, illuminating the streets and large buildings. The strange and comforting feeling has now gone, giving way to the heavy feeling that it is another day of work. The noise of people begins to be heard, the footsteps and voices chattering gives him a feeling of disgust and fear that he has already felt several times. People crowd around him, the discomfort is noticeable even on his face, but he tries to remain as neutral as possible. His legs gave out and he almost fell, but he managed to pull himself together before making an embarrassing moment in public. He mentally insults himself, he should have made coffee or finished his tea, at the very least. His legs were still asleep after walking, or he had just tired quickly from walking for a while because of the sleep he still had.

He bites his lips, the urge to yell at people to get away from him and stop making him uncomfortable was very strong in his mind, but he didn't want to start riots. He raises his head and focuses his gaze on the sky, slamming his eyes shut as the sunlight hurts his eyes. He cursed loudly and lowered his head, touched his eyes and looked at the same colored lights he saw in the morning. This time they weren't a small spectacle, it was a tiny hell. He doesn't even dare to look at people's glances, he already feels them on his back, people were very intrusive when they wanted to, and when it suited them, they ignored everything.

Minutes later, he was already entering the building where he must work all day. The security guard looks at his business card and lets him in, yet not even the same guard who has been at the door three years in a row has recognized him. Well, there were a lot of workers, but the burly guy with sunglasses had known him for three years and he didn't even remember that he worked there every time he came in, but the son of a bitch remembered the first and last name of the rest, who didn't even all go there. the days of the week for three years in a row.

The sounds of the soles of his shoes hitting the floor make a particularly loud sound ring through all the silence. As he walks further, the sound of his shoes isn't the only one. The voices of people answering calls and shouting filled the hallways, the footsteps of other shoes accompanied his, his colleagues who he didn't even know the name passed by him and bumped their shoulders. The subjects just move on, too busy with their work to feel humanity and apologize for the crash.

he look at the door where people came and went quickly. Everyone's steps were quick, and most had a phone in hand and papers in their other free hand. The work there was very busy, so they didn't even have their own thoughts. They were like machines during work hours, and the few who did have time to think about their homes were the ones who worked the least.

He doesn't even knock on the door and it is already opened by an annoying co-worker who intercepts him before he could think of evading him. This is Charlie Giordano, a grown man with wavy and shiny light brown hair, he seemed to care a lot about him, since almost everyone his age didn't even have hair. The most precious thing about Charlie Giordano was his hair, without exaggeration. He had already heard him speak bitterly on the phone with his wife, he also heard the gossip that he had a mistress, and the last thing he heard in their conversation on the phone was that he was planning to get divorced, since he heard that she decided not to get involved anymore.

" Hello, Richard! Could you send this to be photocopied? It has to be in color because Marti's genius came up with the idea of writing it as if he were in primary school. " Charlie said, picking up a sheet of paper and giving it to her hand. .

"Well, not to exaggerate. I just had a moment of imagination." adds a man with short black hair wearing suspenders, a white shirt and black pants, passing through the hallway with a phone in hand.

Richard thinks he is exaggerating, but when he reads the text he notices the colors he used to write on his computer. It seemed to be written by a kid who learned how to use Word. Each sentence was a striking color, the images were very large compared to the text and there were several misspelled words. He can't believe an adult would do that, but Marti was the reincarnation of "Ripening is for fruit."

"Wow.... Don't you want me to copy everything again, but in my style? I don't think it would look so good if they gave this to the boss." Remember that those papers were for an important meeting, if it had been for something else I would have let it go, but since they were important papers he preferred to do them in a good way, like an adult responsible and mature, not like an adult with a chiLdish mentality.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***