Read Online Cecelia Ahern Short Stories by Cecelia Ahern - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cecelia Ahern
Ads: Link
worked in the opposite way to hers. I went from all-singin’ all-dancin’ to being a dead, cold, legless stump like her. It was as if someone had put me on that revolving table and sent me around while one by one people hammered me, pulled at me until I came out the other side feeling and looking like I do now. A conveyor belt surrounded by my ex-wife, kids, mother-in-law, brothers, sisters and whatever friends I had, all armed with their weapons. They’d all taken a jab at me and left me with cold, staring, blue eyes.
I took my place at the conveyor belt, apologized to the guy next to me who was red in the face and sweating from having to put two arms into two holes instead of just his usual one. But I bet he’d done it all while whistling. They all whistled while they worked here, wearing stupid-looking uniforms and working all day without a break. Not me, I don’t make a sound, I had the wind knocked out of me a long time ago.
I could see the boss standing at the window in his office looking at me. Glaring at me with his arms crossed over his fat belly, dressed in an expensive suit ready for his night’s work. We were all working overtime tonight. I hated him. I hated seeing him sitting up there doing nothing while we slaved away down here. I hated that he was the name and face of the company, that he reaped all the rewards, got all the glory and fame and had his picture plastered on every poster all over the world. I wasn’t jealous, no way, that’s not my nature. Not for one second did I want to be in his boots. But I hated him because he wouldn’t let me go.
He wouldn’t give up on me like everyone else had. It was as if we were having some kind of contest. How much could I push it before he sacked me, how much could he take before he would have no choice? I wouldn’t quit; if I was gonna lose everything it had to be taken from me, not given
by
me. I had a feeling he was just leaving me for the next selfish guy who took his job; I was the mess he didn’t want to have to clean up. He was retiring soon, getting away from all this damn snow and heading to the sun. So in the meantime I got to work later every day and missed a few Happy Holly dolls now and then.
Yesterday they had hundreds of them all packaged nice and pretty, ready to go out, until some guy realized that half of them had only one arm. I told them it would be more realistic to let the kids know that not everyone is born looking like some blonde princess with pretty dresses who did whatever you wanted her to do whenever you wanted. It was sending out the wrong message, I told them. But they didn’t go with my idea, instead they just took them all out of the boxes again and some fool whistled while he fixed the few hundred he wasn’t supposed to fix and wasn’t paid to fix. He didn’t care, just kept on with that happy tune while his dinner grew cold on the table, while his kids went to sleep without a goodnight kiss from their daddy and while his wife, who was getting angrier and angrier by the minute, was getting bored waiting for him and starting to look elsewhere.
And why’s he doin’ it? Because one fat man with a grey beard has given some screwed-up motivational speech about helping people all around the world and he fell for it. Got tied up thinking about kids he didn’t know and forgot about his own. I knew the story all too well.
I watched him hammering away and thought, That’s what I must have looked like before they sent me out on the conveyer belt. All enthusiastic and happy, packaged in bright colours designed to please the eye and heart. Ready and willing to do anything asked of me at the press of a button. Plastic.
I missed a few Happy Holly dolls while watching him, decided I couldn’t care less, sat back, lit up a cigarette and watched while those beady eyes rolled on by, seein’ nothin’ and hearin’ nothin’. Existing onlyin the world to please little beings who’d throw them around, drool on them, kick them,
I took my place at the conveyor belt, apologized to the guy next to me who was red in the face and sweating from having to put two arms into two holes instead of just his usual one. But I bet he’d done it all while whistling. They all whistled while they worked here, wearing stupid-looking uniforms and working all day without a break. Not me, I don’t make a sound, I had the wind knocked out of me a long time ago.
I could see the boss standing at the window in his office looking at me. Glaring at me with his arms crossed over his fat belly, dressed in an expensive suit ready for his night’s work. We were all working overtime tonight. I hated him. I hated seeing him sitting up there doing nothing while we slaved away down here. I hated that he was the name and face of the company, that he reaped all the rewards, got all the glory and fame and had his picture plastered on every poster all over the world. I wasn’t jealous, no way, that’s not my nature. Not for one second did I want to be in his boots. But I hated him because he wouldn’t let me go.
He wouldn’t give up on me like everyone else had. It was as if we were having some kind of contest. How much could I push it before he sacked me, how much could he take before he would have no choice? I wouldn’t quit; if I was gonna lose everything it had to be taken from me, not given
by
me. I had a feeling he was just leaving me for the next selfish guy who took his job; I was the mess he didn’t want to have to clean up. He was retiring soon, getting away from all this damn snow and heading to the sun. So in the meantime I got to work later every day and missed a few Happy Holly dolls now and then.
Yesterday they had hundreds of them all packaged nice and pretty, ready to go out, until some guy realized that half of them had only one arm. I told them it would be more realistic to let the kids know that not everyone is born looking like some blonde princess with pretty dresses who did whatever you wanted her to do whenever you wanted. It was sending out the wrong message, I told them. But they didn’t go with my idea, instead they just took them all out of the boxes again and some fool whistled while he fixed the few hundred he wasn’t supposed to fix and wasn’t paid to fix. He didn’t care, just kept on with that happy tune while his dinner grew cold on the table, while his kids went to sleep without a goodnight kiss from their daddy and while his wife, who was getting angrier and angrier by the minute, was getting bored waiting for him and starting to look elsewhere.
And why’s he doin’ it? Because one fat man with a grey beard has given some screwed-up motivational speech about helping people all around the world and he fell for it. Got tied up thinking about kids he didn’t know and forgot about his own. I knew the story all too well.
I watched him hammering away and thought, That’s what I must have looked like before they sent me out on the conveyer belt. All enthusiastic and happy, packaged in bright colours designed to please the eye and heart. Ready and willing to do anything asked of me at the press of a button. Plastic.
I missed a few Happy Holly dolls while watching him, decided I couldn’t care less, sat back, lit up a cigarette and watched while those beady eyes rolled on by, seein’ nothin’ and hearin’ nothin’. Existing onlyin the world to please little beings who’d throw them around, drool on them, kick them,
Similar Books
