Fantasy
There Goes The Sun
Flash fiction
It started just like any other normal Thursday. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for the fact I was carrying a folded cot with me. I don’t usually bring that with me to work, but today was unusual, right off the bat. Not just because I had to dig through my under the stairs storage to find the old musty cot for a co-worker who had the great idea to try ‘glamping’ in the middle of the Scottish summer, where it is more rain than anything else. Which would possibly explain why my cot was a bit musty. Nonetheless, I was being a good co-worker and bringing said cot into work. Now people who know me would laugh if they saw me walk into work with a cot strapped to my back like some kind of over-enthusiastic hiker. Me, hiking? I’d be laughed out of the office! My scrawny pale and pasty chicken legs hadn’t seen hide nor hair of sun or outdoor activity in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m an active guy, but I’m more of a gym rat…or mole, I guess you could say. I’m the guy who keeps to himself in the corner of the gym, hoping other people won’t notice I’m there. In any case, going to the gym is good, because it meant I had brought a change of clothes with me that morning on the train, folded neatly at the bottom of the old canvas sack of a backpack I used every day. Not very professional of me, I know.
