He sat in the break room with his coffee, long chin upon his fist. He smiled at a memory.
He recalled a frost covered branch, crystals forming upon it like miniature mountain ranges. Jack walked away feeling good at the art he’d created. He hadn’t strode far before a man in a suit handed him a slip of paper.
“What’s this?” growled Jack, unaccustomed to interruptions.
“It’s a bill, sir,” said the man. “For the cooling costs.”
“A bill? You can’t bill me! Do you know who I am?”
“I do, sir. There’s no mistake. We at Central Electric aren’t human enough to make human errors.”
Jack’s eyes bugged at all the zeroes. “You must be mad! I don’t have this kind of money!”
The man shrugged. “Sorry, sir. There’ll be no more cooling until it’s paid.”
Jack awoke from his reverie to see his wimpy boss standing over him. The 140-pound little prick never got respect anywhere else. He loved throwing his supervisory weight around wherever he could. “What, Stanley?” growled Jack.
“Coffee break’s over, lazy bones.”
“Piss off, Stanley!”
“You want to keep your temp job, Jack? Want to pay your bills, Mr. Frost? Get back to work!”
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction