Workplace
Office tension, professional boundaries crossed
9 stories
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Pull the Heavy Curtains
Her heels clicked against the parquetry with the rhythmic, punishing precision of a chef's knife hitting a walnut board in a busy service.
Have You Always Known Exactly Where I Break?
I could see your pulse in your throat, a frantic little bird trapped under the skin, while you discussed the charcoal's grit.
Lock the Door
The rain hit the glass like a frantic syncopated brush on a snare, making the silence between our desks feel as heavy as an unplugged amp.
Silas's Lanyard
I checked his neck for the plastic badge, a nervous tic of an old habit, wondering if the years had softened the sharp line of his collarbone.
I’m Pretty Sure the Aperture Was Fine
He watched the way her throat moved when she swallowed, a tiny, rhythmic tick that felt more honest than anything she’d actually said.
August 28th, 11:42 PM
The salt air is doing things to your hair that your stylist in the Loop would probably categorize as a breach of contract.
—unless you're counting the minibar
I’m in the third row of the keynote, watching your pulse thrum against your collar. I’ve never hated a lanyard more.
Monday, 4:11 AM
He leaned over my desk, the smell of cedar and stage-whiskey hitting me like a sudden drop in barometric pressure.
9:14 PM, Friday
I watched her throat move when she swallowed the Cabernet, and I thought about the exact pressure required to leave a mark there.