Issue #00 - Mocktober 2009 - Website Under Construction
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- From a Deck, Coldly -

Fate cares not for "fair".
The events of our lives
Are but a hand of cards,
Dealt from a deck, coldly.
- Anonymous

Chapter One:

I sat quietly in the still-unfamiliar cafeteria, casting my eyes about and sipping my tea, and contemplated my new situation. This new job was a step down for me, certainly, but it was still a job, and it looked like it might be an interesting change of pace. Getting through what was supposed to be a week's worth of computerized training lessons in less than half a day was something that should get some attention, and I didn't think it would take long for me to the top tier. I was still feeling a little embarrassed about not being able to keep that spell in check - then again, it had been a long morning without much to do, and I didn't have anywhere to go to let them out yet. I did muffle it as best I could, when I realized I wasn't going to be able to hold it in, but it was still loud enough to be heard clear across the cavernous cubicle-filled hall. The strange looks I got from a couple of my training class-mates seemed to be saying 'that was a weird sneeze', and I had heard some chatter on the way to the cafeteria about if anyone had seen that little dog that had been letting out those sharp little barks earlier. I even got asked if I had seen it myself - I hope I managed to keep a straight face when I said that I hadn't.

The lunch break over, I weaved my way back to my desk in my training group's section of the cubicle-maze. Unwilling to read through the dreadfully-tedious training lessons yet again, and lacking else anything to do, I pulled out my headphones and started listening to some music, hoping it would be enough distraction. I didn't had the nerve to do so earlier - I still hadn't explained my situation to anyone yet, and it would have looked like I was just flaunting the rules. But after the noise that I had made earlier, at least I now had a solid example of what I was trying to prevent. All things considered, it wasn't all that surprising that I had a spell like that - there were few things more likely to trigger one than boredom, and boredom was something that the morning had had in abundance. When I was able to keep myself occupied however, the spells would pretty much disappear. And so, headphones on, I sat quietly listening to music for the rest of the afternoon, without further incident.

At the end of the day, as I was packing up to go home, one of the management staff - the very woman who had interviewed me in fact - called me aside. Indicating that she had something to discuss with me, she escorted me to an office to talk in private, an odd, unreadable expression on her face.

"It seems that you are having no difficulties with the training lessons - being able to go through that much material that quickly is quite impressive."

I nodded in response, quite certain that that was not the real reason for this little chat.

"However, we do have some concerns. You were acting quite strangely for a while this morning, and caused a bit of a disruption. Can you explain what all that was about?"

As I had done for each of my previous employers, I explained the details of my condition to her. How that these spells only occur when I'm forced to sit idle; that allowing me a little leeway and letting me distract myself when needed would pretty much prevent them; and how I could feel them coming on and could go somewhere quiet to let a spell loose if I couldn't prevent it completely. After I wrapped up, she responded with a sympathetic, understanding look.

"Well, your explanation is quite clear, and there shouldn't be any problem at all letting you do what you need to do to keep these spells under control. It is kind of strange though - I've never heard of such a thing before. This condition of yours, does it have a name?"

I indicated that it did, and told her.

"You have... Tourette Syndrome?"

I nodded.

She stopped speaking, looking as if she was trying to remember something. As she did so, the expression on face changed, the sympathy draining away. After a few moments, she repeated her question, but this time looking at me with an icy, indignant stare.

"You have Tourette Syndrome?"

I nodded again, suddenly feeling a cold chill run down my spine.

"You're fired. Get out. Now."

(to be continued...)


 
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