The previous night, Jim hunched over Pam’s laptop in the fading evening light He’d been sitting here for over an hour. But he couldn’t stop reading. The feeling was so odd. He felt like he was reading a book about himself. And in some respects he was.
Pam had filled this file with Jim. Most of the stories were true events, written like diary entries. A couple were things people in the office said about Jim, any rumor that had ever surfaced about him, which, in an office like theirs, was often. And a few stories, buried deep in the recesses of Pam’s computer, were fantasy. Just eight or nine tales, all of which began with Jim picking up Pam for dinner, and ended with a kiss on her doorstep. And each one was so specific, describing Jim’s clothes, the food they ordered, the weather on the drive home. Jim’s favorite was one Pam had written where Jim asked her over for dinner, and cooked salad, lasagna, and brownies for the both of them.
Now, knowing this odd author side of Pam, Jim wasn’t sure what to do. Ignore it, or tell her he knew? Or did it really matter if he knew? Pam was allowed to write whatever she wanted. But Jim wanted to make sure she really meant all these things she’d written, every last one of them. So, he decided to test it out. He memorized the beginning of Pam’s dinner fantasy, word for word. Then he made sure to put on the tie described in the story, do his hair the right way, and even wait for the exact moment to strike up the conversation.
For a moment, Jim felt a little weird. Maybe this was going a little far. But then again, Jim was the master of pranks. And far be it from him to stop Pam from living out a fantasy.
DistinctOldManSmell is the author of 1 other stories.
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