The Cubicle – A daily life flash fiction

Inspiration can come in the most unexpected of places.  This piece was written after hearing about my husband’s experiences in his job at the time.  I hope you all enjoy this small slice of life fiction piece.  

The Cubicle

“I have to get out of this place,” Hugh said to the stale air that surrounded him. Florescent light beat down into the padded walls of his cubicle. For eight to ten hours, five days a week he saw no natural light. Some days he’d walk out into the sun for lunch, but he had a mortgage and kids, so most days were tuna on wheat in his cube. Hugh’s eyes blurred as he stared at the black computer screen. The white letters of the code he was employed to fix – well, not really fix, just spruce up a little – caused his left eye to throb. He felt a familiar itch and knew that yet another blood vessel burst in that eye. “All of these aneurisms will kill me one day. I need to just leave. Just walk out, Hugh.” Sighing, he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to force them to focus. He’d stared at this code for ten hours and the only solution was to trash and start over again. Unfortunately, the bosses would never go for it. “What if I just deleted it all? They’d fire me, but all the bad code would be gone.” He laughed at the thought and momentarily allowed his imagination to run wild. It brought a small measure of comfort, at least until he opened his eyes. The phone sitting next to the keyboard played a familiar song. Hugh smiled and looked at the beautiful face of the woman he suffered this torture for. He shut his computer down and answered the phone. “Hi honey,” he said. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be home soon.” He exhaled as he walked toward his car, relieved to leave. “I’m not coming in tomorrow!” He yelled, ecstatic that he’d made it to the weekend.