Here's another short story from a much earlier assignment. I also submitted this one to Take A Break: Fiction Feast, a monthly magazine that includes a collection of short stories from various writers.
Some months later, though, I received my first ever rejection letter from the editor. But I felt strangely proud. Perhaps that's because it was proof that I'd at least tried. And maybe it was because it didn't include any critique on the writing itself, with the editor simply pointing out that the story didn't suit their publication.
At the time, I didn't continue submitting work, but this was only because I had focused my efforts in other areas of writing such as my coursework and an ongoing novel project. That said, The Writer's Bureau encourages you to submit work to publications as part of the course - that's the whole point. And now, I encourage you to do the same. In the past few weeks I've gotten into the habit of doing just that, submitting at least one article or short story a week, but remember that half the work is the market research and making sure that you follow your chosen publication's guidelines to the word.
In this story, you'll find similarities with my recently-posted short story To Be Human Again. But I won't spoil it for you. After all, part of the fun is discovering the fantasy for yourself. So take a break (pardon the pun) and enjoy the read.
Fantasy Land
Like a cartoon character, I imagined making a cloud of whirling smoke at my feet in an attempt to get as far away as possible. The only thing that was whirling, though, was the hurricane of nerves in my stomach. A sudden beep and the pouring of water snapped me back to reality. A young, skinny, silver-haired man stood at the staffroom coffee machine.
“Someone
needs the toilet,” he said as he gestured towards my feet. I’d been clicking my
heels together without realising, something I did whenever I was nervous.
“First
day,” I said.
“You’ll
be fine,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Besides, you look very smart. The
emerald-green waist-coat is very eye-catching.”
You
could say that, I thought. At least he was being nice. “Thanks,” I smiled. “Not
sure it goes with my checkered skirt and sparkling shoes, though. I’m Ellie
Minnelli, by the way.”
My
aunt and uncle had supported me their whole life, and with the farm facing
closure, it was now time for me to support them. Their latest gift to me,
however, came in the form of an assortment of hand-me-down clothes they
considered suitable for office work. ‘You’re unique!’ they told me. ‘It’s how
all the young girls are dressing these days!’ The problem with being unique,
though, was that it drew attention, and I wasn’t a fan of such things.
“Nice
to meet you, Ellie,” he nodded. “I’m Tim Mann. I detect a slight accent. Where
are you from?”
“I’m
from Wales. This is my first job in the city.”
Two other
men joined Tim at the machine: one had a scruffy beard and a mane of blonde hair, who twitched at the sound of the beep from ordering
his own drink; and the other had hair like straw that pointed in all directions and he wore
a tattered shirt but the kindest smile.
“This
is Leon Cardly,” Tim said, pointing to the bearded-man, “Terrified of
everything, as you can tell. And this is Simon Crow. He spends most of his time
in a fantasy land.”
Simon
shrugged. “Tim is just something of a machine. He doesn’t appreciate the beauty
of ‘inner-paradise’.”
“Well,”
I said. “I’m always flying back home to my aunt and uncle’s farm in Wales - in a
hot air balloon, of course.”
Simon
laughed, his smile was warm and comforting. On first glance he appeared rather
scary, but he was nothing of the sort - even if he did look like he’d just
crawled through a corn field. “Do you
miss the countryside?” he asked.
“No
place like it,” I said. “But enough about me - what do you all do here?”
“Well,”
Tim said, “they call us the ‘Tech-Wizards of Ozborne Insurance’ because we fix everything.
Others have less-kind names, though.”
“IT,”
I nodded, secretly disappointed. “I’m general admin support, so you never know.”
“But Simon’s
not too bright when it comes to IT,” Tim said. “We don’t want him to end up
elsewhere, though, so Leon and I secretly cover a lot of his work. And as for Leon;
he gets pushed around all the time. Real scaredy-cat.”
Leon
stared at the floor and sighed hopelessly.
“I
suppose you could say we’re all lacking in something that would make life here
easier,” Tim said.
“Is
there something I should know?” I asked nervously, sensing some ominous signs
“For
every beautiful rainbow,” Simon said, “there’s an ugly storm. But don’t worry -
you seem very brave, coming to the city all by
yourself. You don’t need our help. In fact, it’s probably us who needs yours.”
“I don’t
know about that,” I laughed. ‘But do you guys mind if I join you for lunch?”
“It
would be a pleasure,” Tim said, finally with a smile. “Come see us at 12
o’clock. Just follow the yellow-print signs that say ‘IT Team’.”
As
nine o’clock neared, they wished me good luck – even Leon - and from where I sat
waiting to be collected by my new manager, I watched them disappear into the
office: Tim walked stiffly, like a robot; Simon followed behind with bendy
legs, as though they had no bones and like he would fall over at any moment;
and, with his shoulders curled, Leon almost ran as if he’d just seen a ghost.
Somehow,
I felt destined to become friends with them. Their presence alone had made me
feel strangely at ease. They were different and I admired that, but who was
this unkind person they had vaguely alluded to?
Suddenly,
a girl entered the staff room. Her bleach-blonde hair was brighter than the sun
that spilled in through the window, and the only thing she seemed to be wearing
was a harsh, stone-cold expression. After ordering her coffee, she sat on the
sofa opposite me and tapped the screen of her phone with long plastic claws.
“Morning,”
I said.
A smile
stretched across her orange face, though it reminded me of the Cheshire Cat’s; both wicked and insincere. “First day?” she said.
“Yes,”
I smiled.
“Need
the money, I take it?”
“Sorry?”
I asked, completely taken aback.
“For new
clothes?”
If I
was to hazard a guess, this was who Tim and Simon had mentioned.
“Not
really,” I said. “But it’s better to wear something
to work, right?” The hurricane in my gut returned stronger than before, only
this time it felt strangely empowering. I wondered if Tim, Simon and Leon had magically
instilled me with some confidence. Well, perhaps not Leon.
The
girl grimaced, and looked at me like she wanted to scrape me from her shoe, or
put me there first. I could feel my cheeks turn ruby-red
as they often did when my heart raced.
“Minnelli,
right?’ she said bitterly.
“That’s
what it says on my badge,” I responded sarcastically.
“Well,
I’m your new boss,” she said. “Katie Hamilton. We agreed to meet here,
remember?”
My heart sank to my stomach.
“My sister’s the floor manager but
she’s off long-term sick, so I also oversee all the other teams around here,
too. Some advice: you’ll do well to stay away from those losers you were just talking to.”
Suddenly, five more girls arrived, who looked so
identical to Katie, they could have just stepped off a conveyor belt in some
sort of cloning factory.
“Hey, my pretties!”
Katie beamed, as she jumped up to join them. Within seconds they were
sniggering and whispering.
“Her handbag looks more like a fruit
basket!”
“What has she got in there; a small
dog?”
“She’ll
fit in well with all the ‘little’ people.”
“The only thing missing on her is
pigtails!”
Katie
Hamilton possessed no broom, but she did hover above the ground on heels that were
probably just as high. And though her skin wasn’t bright green, it was a
horrible bright orange from the fake tan and the thick paste she probably had
the audacity to call ‘make-up’.
Perhaps
all I need to survive this job is a pail of water, I thought, as I wondered
what would happen to Katie’s face if it got wet. But maybe three new friends
would be enough.
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