Straighten Up

LAYTON

Late the next Friday afternoon, I rubbed my tired eyes and looked over a three dimensional mock-up of one of my upcoming projects on my computer at the office. There was something not quite right about it, but I was having trouble putting my finger on what, exactly, was off.

“Come on, man. Concentrate,” I muttered, squinting my eyes as I titled the image this way and that. Any minute now, I would see what was bothering me. Nothing jumped out, but I was sure it would soon. I just had to keep going.

I was concentrating so hard, I didn’t notice there was someone else in my office until I heard the soft scrape of a chair against my laminate flooring. My head snapped toward the sound. I sighed internally when I saw who it was.

Marissa.

Of course. She was the only one who just walked into my office. No knocking, no waiting for me to call her in. It was an aggravating habit she had, but I didn’t show my aggravation.

No good could come of it. She just wasn’t like the other people here.