A Story For April

Another story with a bit of an open end. Over the years, I’ve found many mystery sticky notes on my various desks. All of them were in my own handwriting (ooh, should have thought of that for the story! LOL). They were a thought, an idea, a title. The difficulty was that I had no idea what idea they were supposed to link to! Here’s a different problem with a random message on a sticky note. Technically still flash fiction since it’s under 1,000 words. I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to leave (polite) comments. You don’t have to like the story, but there’s no reason not to be civil.

The Slip

It was a sticky note.

Square and curling at the free corners.

Just like pretty much every other sticky note he’d ever seen. Except for two things. It was purple. And It was stuck to the center of his desktop.

The message on it said, “Tuesday, 9:00 AM, Conference Room”

Today was Friday, and it was a beast of a day. He’d taken twenty minutes for lunch. The boss was glaring at him for daring to step away on a day like this. There was a logical break in his duties that gave him a window to eat. He’d taken it. The note hadn’t been there when he’d stepped out.

Frank peeled it off the desk, looked at the back in case there was an explanation there, then felt like an idiot because, seriously, who does that?

It was a next week problem, so he re-stuck the note on the desk, off to the right. Out of the way while still in sight. The rest of the day was alternate parts frenzied, stupid, and exhausting. When he finally got out of there, Frank didn’t give the note another thought over the weekend.

When he came back on Monday, the note was back in the middle of his desk.

In the exact center of his desk.

It was odd enough that someone moved it, but the longer he looked at it, the more certain he was. It was in the EXACT center of the desk. Using the ruler he kept in a drawer, Frank verified the position.

The exact center.

It was weird. But it probably meant it was important. A check of his work calendar on his smartphone revealed nothing. Same for this work e-mail. Nothing.

Staring at the note, Frank called out to the others in the area around his desk. They were identical cubicles, staffed by identical denizens of the corporate hierarchy.

“What kind of meeting do we have tomorrow?”

Harrelson popped up first. That was normal. Harrison was a pain in the ass know-it-all.

“What?”

“Meeting, tomorrow. I got a note, didn’t you?”

“Note?”

Sigh. Pain-in-the-ass.

Other heads popped up, with shakes or shrugs, saying they had nothing to offer on the question.

Frank peeled the sticky off his desk and waved it in the air for all to see

“I got a note that says ‘Tuesday, 9:00 AM, Conference room’. Am I the only one who got…”?

No sooner than he’d lifted the scrap of paper for everyone to see than everyone he could see disappeared. Only Harrelson remained. When Frank gestured with the note, Harrelson slid back into his cubicle. It was like a magic trick. Frank stood there with his arms stretched wide and a puzzled look on his face. He stepped out and went down the aisle to Harrelson’s desk. Before he could say a word, the man in the chair said,

“I gotta take this phone call!”

Then he spun away from Frank, hunched over his desk and whispering on the phone. The whole thing was weird, but the longer he thought about, the weirder it got. Harrelson never passed on a chance to talk. It’s one reason people avoided him. But today, he’d never looked up, never looked at Frank. He was hunched over in his chair, like he was trying to hide. No matter what Frank tried, Harrelson just kept waving him off.

In fact, everyone he tried to talk to suddenly had urgent phone calls. He’d even tried going to the boss with the note. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, his boss’s eyes grew large and he grabbed a phone, waving off Frank’s attempts to ask what was going on.

Fine, whatever, he had work to do. He’d talk with the boss at the end of the day. Returning to his desk, he stuck the note off to the side again and hunkered down. His job was mostly meaningless nonsense, but there was a lot of it.

When he finished, something strange struck him. The room of cubicles was silent. No end of day chatter, people setting up some after work socializing, grumbling about the job. Nothing. Frank stood up and realized the room was empty. Once again, they’d pulled a magic disappearing act. He’d been in the zone this afternoon, really focused. The phone had never rung. No one had bothered with more nonsense. His watch showed that he was no later than usual.

Weird.

A quick check showed even his boss was gone. Screw it, he’d just go home.

Tuesday morning, the note was back in the center of his desk.

Frank had gotten in at 8:30, per usual. The room was empty, and stayed empty till 9. A few minutes before the hour, he walked down the hallways to the conference room. The frosted glass door was closed, so he knocked.

“Come in, Frank.”

Six months later, the executive secretary from HR led a new hire down through the aisles between the cubicles.

“We’re almost there! Here’s Mr. Harrelson. I’m sure he can answer any other questions.”

Harrelson waved absently as he listened to whoever was at the other end of the phone.

A few cubicles further down, she stopped.

“Here you are. I’m sure you’ll have great luck here!”

The new hire nodded.

“It looks good! What happened to its last occupant?”

The bright professional cheerfulness in her voice faltered for a moment, then rallied.

“How odd! I don’t recall.”

She turned and left without a backward glance.

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