#damyoujohnson

This one was a free writing that just had the theme ‘something changed.’ I think it has a strong Stanley Parable or Beginners Guide vibe to it. 

     All the workers were drinking their coffee, getting those morning tiredness to disappear. Some spilling coffee on their suits and dresses, leaving a nasty stain. Though nobody seemed to mind or notice, they weren’t there to look professional, they were there to do their job. Day in and day out, working with no pay. With very few limited water breaks, the water cooler almost seemed to begin to collect dust. With no Janitor, it was never cleaned, the water now bared a nice murky brown color. Nobody dared drink it, only more lean on it and ponder the idea of drinking it. Though the workers never complained, that's what they were created to do. Day in and day out, with limitless work. A collaborative yawn stretched the morning workplace. Almost as if it was in tune. Almost like a mini harmony. Nobody was phased by this, almost as if it was planned.

     Everything planned, everything perfectly calculated, everything predetermined. The sips of coffee, the tapping of constant keyboards, the dropping of the pencil. Wait… that pencil wasn’t supposed to be there. It was supposed to be in Johnson’s  pencil cup. Right next to his blue and black pen, making a mini sandwich. But not, its not in it’s normal place. It’s rolled onto the ground. Planted right under where Johnson should be. Then again...where’s Johnson? Not at his post? That’s unheard of. This wasn’t planned. It was all supposed to be normal today. A part of the code is missing now. It could ruin the whole database. It could ruin our company. It could shut down the whole system.

     “Dear god, Johnson, why have you forsaken us!” An ear shattering buzz fills the room, giving a blue screen to every computer. The walls began to sway, almost as if blown by a storm. The worker's type faster, trying to fix the error. The water cooler conversations become shorter. The water turns to an Opal black. Beginning to roar louder than the buzz. Breaking the eardrums of every single worker, but they kept typing. Faster and faster, leaving skid marks on their respective keyboards. Each worker drawing sweat down their face. Even farther from the plan. Documents flying into the air, disappearing just as fast. Leaving a burning smell in the air.

     A shadow appears at one of the doors, simply walking in past all the chaos. Walking up to Johnson’s chair, grabbing the pencil and putting it back in its place. Only then to sit in the chair and start typing like nothing had happened. The typing slowed, the walls straightened, the buzzing stopped, the water was its murky self, but the papers were gone. With no recollection of ever existing.

     “And that’s why I failed my History test.”

     “You're telling me you made this whole huge analogy that represents your brain, just to get out of studying?”