Sunday, October 6, 2013

At The Institute For Not Asking Questions (250=1)



At The Institute For Not Asking Questions

“We take things on faith here,” your supervisor says, heels clicking on the tile.

“We do?” you ask, without thinking.

The supervisor stops, glances furtively. Hand on your shoulder , he leans in close.

First day jitters.”  Whispering.  “I understand, but don’t let it happen again.”

From the tiled floor to a carpet: you are an executive .

For now! Don’t let it happen again!

“We also assume. We extrapolate. We compile data. We assemble lists.”

A door.

Your door.

Opening into an office, a window overlooking the river. You forgot to ask, before you were… hired… what the river is called. 

You’d best get that impulse out of your system, now.

“We bring order to the disorderly,” your supervisor says, hand on the windowsill.

When you arrived, they brought you coffee, without bothering to inquire whether you wanted some. That makes sense to you, now.

“…by making sure that everything is neat and clean and has no rough edges.” He smiles at you.  “Metaphorically speaking, of course!”

You nod and chuckle, a beat too late after he chuckles.  If he notices, it is barely – barely – communicated from the way he tilts his head slightly, and turns away even more slightly.

How did you end up here.

Already, you don’t even think it as a question.

Everything is so bright!

A river winds through the clouds, which look like fog lying over a city.

If you never ask questions, it’s easier to believe.



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In 250=1, I write stories that are exactly 250 words long, including the title. Here's a list of all of them that I've ever written!

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