Sunday May 24th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about something or someone that is: devious.

Spent most of the day wallowing in my sickness, so not much of interest to share. I'll spare you the details and just get to the creative writing portion of today's post.


Each weekday morning, directly after arriving at his desk, Evan sits in his chair and closes his eyes. He needs those quiet moments, before the rest of the office arrives. To reattain serenity after a frenzied commute and to prepare himself for the work ahead. It's why he is always early, every single day.

That, at least, is the story he tells the rest of us. I haven't believed a word of it since the events of last Tuesday.

I know he's responsible for those missing files that cost me the Jefferson contract. Which cost me my promotion. Which put him ahead of me in line for said promotion.

I just can't prove it.

Not yet, anyway.

It's taken me a few days to get everything I need, but I'm ready now. Tomorrow morning Evan will arrive before anyone else, as usual. He will do something to sabotage a coworker he views as competition, like I'm fairly certain he always does. And he'll be back at his desk, bashing away at his keyboard, before anyone else walks through the door.

Or so he will believe.

The reality will be much different. I will be here. I will capture video recordings of his wrongdoings. I will turn it in and be hailed as a hero. My promotion will be... well, mine.

My disguise is perfect. He won't even give the new potted plant next to his desk a second glance. And that's where I'll be, watching his every move.

You're going down, Evan. All before the first pot of coffee is even ready.

I sure hope so, anyway. I don't really want to spend my whole day squished in there.


Greg said...

Get well soon :)
Heh, hiding in a potted plant? That definitely takes dedication and I suspect that your protagonist will only find that Evan is more devious still and it'll take more than one day's surveillance to catch him in the act. I shall look forward to more of this little office war being played out! The details are nicely done without being overdone, in particular how you gradually develop Evan's personality through comments about him and his general attitude. I can almost picture him :)

"I think how to make Winter electronegative," said Dr. Septopus. His beak clacked happily as he stood at the head of the stainless steel table that dominated the board room of the Council of Nastiness. Sylvestra, sat halfway along the right-hand side, barely looked up from her accounts documents, and the Green Lightbulb, sat on the opposite side to her looked puzzled, as though he was trying to remember something. Then he smiled as though grasping the errant thought, and applauded. The Red lightbulb wandered in at that point, seemingly drawn by the noise.
"What's the fuss?" he asked.
"I have figured out how to make Winter electonegative," said Dr. Septopus. His felt the importance of the announcement was somewhat diminished by having to say it twice. "This year there will be eight hundred times more electrical storms than in any other Winter!"
"Well aren't you a devious Dan," said Red, smiling politely.
"No, he's my brother," said Dr. Septopus. There was a moment of silence, and then he slapped three tentacles over his beak, horrified at what he'd just said.
"You have a brother?" said Red, curiousity rampant on his face.
"You had a mother?" said Green, shock apparent in his voice.
"I'm sure I've got Google here somewhere," murmured Sylvestra, rummaging through her papers for her laptop.
"What do you mean, I had a mother?" said Dr. Septopus latching onto the least revealing comment. Red turned to look at Green as well, an eyebrow arched.
"Well, I just assumed that you were like a fish," said Green. "You know, eight-thousand eggs in a swimming pool somewhere, some kind of fish frenzy to seed them all, and then you hatch out like a month later and start eating all the other little tadpoles...."
"What!?" Dr. Septopus's voice nearly hit ultrasonic frequencies as his rage soared.
"That explains your DeviantArt account," murmured the Red Lightbulb, stepping slightly further away.
"Excuse me," said Sylvestra, smiling at something that Google was revealing to her. "I have a conquest to plot."

Anonymous said...

Get well soon, Marc!

More characters in a novel idea of mine:


Chevalier was beginning to come to by the time I gathered his spare clothing from Syn’s discarded pack and ran back to the tree he was flung into.
Seeing the clothing in my arms, his began to shift back into his human form. I politely looked away until I was certain he was covered.
“Where’s Syn?” He asked, straightening his shirtfront.
“The guards took him. How are you feeling?”
His long russet hair was sticking up at the top and there appeared to be a large knot in the strands near his right ear, but he gave me the same large and obnoxious grin that he did when he first revealed himself to me. “I’ve been beat up worse than this in a more vulnerable form and lived to tell the tale. What are you doing?”
I had begun to pick through the remnants of our camp. We would only be able to take the utmost necessities with us.
“I’m going to trade myself for Syn. Dominique wants me so he can secure the throne, right? He’ll let Syn go if I give myself to him.” I looked longingly at the portrait of my parents in my hand. I had rested it near the fire the night before, looking at their smiling faces in the flickering light until I was able to slip of into slumber. Even though it broke the small remaining slivers of my heart, I laid the portrait on the ground and went through my meticulous sorting. There! My dagger. The hilt fit perfectly into my palm. “But the good Duke Loic won’t see that I’m not the same ice princess everyone at court thought I was. Not anymore.”
I stashed the dagger into my stocking.
“Vice Duke Loic, you mean,” Chevalier said near my shoulder. “And your plan might not work.”
I stared up at him, searching his face for any telltale signs of humor. I knew Orane trained him with the ability to hide not only his true self, but also everything that crossed his mind. But I would have liked to think that after the time we spent together I knew enough of him to know when he was joking.
He was not joking now.
“What do you mean? I thought—“
“Everyone thought the young Duke had wondered off and been killed one way or another, Syn made sure no one would go looking for him. He thought he would have to become someone entirely different in order to find the answers to the Alchemic Maiden myth. Dominique will not trade Syn for you, Belia. Crown Princess or not, Dominique has no claim to the throne until he is actually the Duke of Loic. And until he kills his older brother, Cyprien Lewsyn Evrard, or the man you know as Syn, Dominique is still nothing but a Vice Duke with no power, money, or claim.”

Marc said...

Greg - thanks!

And yes, I might have to return to this setting in the future :)

The good doctor has a brother? That is a fun and intriguing development :D

Ivy - thank you :)

I do enjoy these peaks into the longer tales you're weaving together. I'm always left wanting more, which is certainly a good thing.