Killing Me Softly

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This Friday perhaps? CC Image courtesy of Ani-Bee on Flickr

I hesitate, about to hit send.  Something’s niggling.  Friday, Friday…  I let it go, the niggle, and the email, out into cyberspace.


Time Out?’


Colleague chucks the magazine across the desk.  I open it to be confronted by a sea of red.

‘What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?’ I say.

Colleague makes a pained sound.

I laugh.  ‘Aside from slowly killing yourself?!’

She’s got a family birthday party.  It sounds like fun.



I pull a face.  ‘I’ve just realized – I suggested doing something on Friday to someone.  But it’s fine, he won’t get the wrong idea.’

I say a little prayer that Editor will overlook my suggestion, and plump instead for a night the following week.  When, over dinner, he will ask how the blog is going (code for ‘how is your barren, featureless desert of a love life?’), before remarking that it can’t be going all that well since I suggested we do this on Valentine’s Day.

CC Image courtesy of juggzy_malone on Flickr

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