Saturday Fiction in 58

Company memo
Crumpled in her hand, almost like a bouquet of flowers made in yellow legal pad, was the missive penned in pencil.
Pencil, of all things.
She held it tight enough to cause the blood in her fingers to escape, which accentuated the blood-red nail polish.
“Please don’t come back until you take care of this issue,” he said.
It had started so simply, a look, a touch, just the hint of caring in the eyes.
Now, it had escalated into this.
A choice.
There was not a good choice either. Which path did she want to follow? The stable, predictable, keep-the-job path? Or, the daring, out-there-on-a-limb path?
How, or could she tell Carmen it was finally over?

OK kids, what did the memo say? Give me the next 58. Black-Eyed Susan, you want to give it a go?

2 comments:

Chris Nagy said...

Here's a try:

It had started so simply, a look, a touch, just the hint of caring in the eyes.
Now, it had escalated into this.
A choice.
There was not a good choice either. Which path did she want to follow? The stable, predictable, keep-the-job path? Or, the daring, out-there-on-a-limb path?
How, or could she tell Carmen it was finally over?

Quin Browne said...

geez, i have to think on it (and use my word count on iword)