NightShine

"Mr. Time"

"James!!" My boss yelled with a sheer abruptness as he pounded his fist into my desk. Mr. Mengo hated being late. His punctuality he wore like a badge to display to all of his greatness. He was proficient, unyielding. Perpetually encompassing his pension fuled plans of world domination. All within a briefcase that contained performance models and quarterly updates that lingered heavily upon him. My doritos falling to the floor I sat upright with an immediate obedience. The slight bit of drool I wiped away as i maintained my act of a startled expression. My computer sat in front of me displaying the screen saver of my beautiful Ferrari. Its shine seemingly radiant projecting from my $4000 lcd screen. It was a gift from Casey when I graduated from MIT. My sister was so proud of me. Her meager salary she saved like pennies planning on the purchase for a long time. Her big brother made it. Amidst alcohol and long nights partying i had managed to obtain my worth in a degree that hung upon my office wall. Waiting for the black fortitude of the laptops frame to eventually be on sale. She lucked out and bought it for me. I was so thankful. I missed her very much. I recovered quickly from my unscheduled slumber and looked up at my boss with a smile. "Do you have any idea what time it is!" Snarling he insisted upon my words patching up the delay in his presentation i had been planning. Mr. Mengo was a short stocky man. His belly ventured outward while his breath reeked of peppermint and various candies that he sucked on during his daily lectures. He was fiercely motivating. His gift of performance increases mimicked hitlers command of his own audience. His bald head granting him an aura of prestige in his black Armani suite and polished Turkish shoes. He had worked for the company for 40 years and lost his marriage in the shuffle of dividends and long hours procuring his vast fortune. He gazed at me with sweat trickling from his brow. His brown eyes hinting at a rural disgust of the condition of my ever shifting desk top. "Answer me boy I don't have all day" he said standing there with arms crossed. Hesitation adorned my response. I looked around and grabbed my liquid strength to recharge with one gulp.
The can was still cold from when I bought it from down the hall. "I'm sorry sir!" I said this while running my fingers through dark curls that sat disheveled upon my tiredness in the plain of the sun. Its rays displaying the casual greys that lingered amidst the dark strands that bestowed there softness towards me. I wasn't young anymore. Wrinkled lines etched themselves like tree branches under my eyes. Beneathe there shifting vengeance my status assumed an unwilling partner to the comforting lack of energy that old age had granted me. I longed to cash in on my stocks and bonds. Traverse the stairway and snobby interns with a middle finger as I headed off to Florida in my finely tuned sports car. "10 minutes son! 10 minutes!" My boss sarcastically whimpered while displaying his nervousness behind tired eyes and coffee stains from the brink of another days quarreling. He was use to me in my folly. Often strolling past my office giving me the evil eye. His hopefulness in the assumption that I was steadily working on something of high value margins. I got away with murder because I was #1. The company depended on my clamor. My military soldier exterior professing the whole of each presentation as I glided amidst the others. I was animated in my approach. Defined by risks and high interest assets. I demanded terms and payback that was at peak performance intervals. Exhaustion and sickness did not shackle me. I had to be a machine. A relentless patrol of entertainment for my boss' high expectations. Mr Mengo walked steadily out of the room. His shoes clicking against the waxed nuances of shine that mimicked in an echoing into the stilled office air. I accessed my portfolio upon various passwords and sat back in my chair. Scratching the side of my face I glanced at the time. Its hands ready to smite me in my dimwitted stupidity. I jargled the program I used for investment turn outs and initiated the print job to my best friend sitting silently upon my desk. My printer danced to life. A commotion of interchanging lights hinting to the drained ink cartridge that ensued its fate upon my important papers. I managed to have just enough to prolong my boss' unwavering hope in me. "Genelle"! I yelled to my secretary who came clamoring to my side immediately. Her thick framed glasses hanging upon her nose drooping slightly as she leaned down to me to display her full attention. "Mango wants this a.s.a.p. please put it in a folder and mark it with JAC quarterly production reports". I glanced away at the clock that mesmerized me slightly upon its ticking etude. It oddly grew louder and louder only to the wake of my own complete attention. Time had a becoming about it. A darkness and light faceless to the world of eaches cruel recommendation. A distorted changing that nestled within the ridged canyon of a likeness in death. Its unseen curse laughing at children playing in its midst. The soul provider of an opportunity to enjoy the sunlit world amidst the spectrum of its unfettered waking conclusion. The room taunted it in a grueling obtrusive belittling. Becomming the master of sovereignty around me the clocks hands screeched into another realm. Its whirlwind accent pulsing in a strobing nuance of greys and black in sheer perfection. Suddenly the necklace appeared before me. it danced invisibly into a forceful readiness. Upon a frightening volocity it struck its centipede arching plowing its grip into my chest. Tearing its riddled fangs into my flesh. During my transformation I watched as time silently approached me. Down from the wall it flew upon dark wings curled in an unwavoring servitude. In an absorbed prospected anticipation it stood to shake my hand and proclaim its allegiance to me. "Sir may I assist you with anything?" It smiled baring fangs reminiscent of polished bronze. Sharpened to exude the pointed release of its appearance in a sunlit room around us. Its hair down past its shoulders in a wintery hue of white and shining translucent black. It was dressed in the finest of apparel. A white silk shirt tucked neatly into trousers that bore an hourglass upon the buckle of a belt that secured there status. Slowly it took on the withered appearance of a man. His jacket black as ravens hung upon his tall muscular form. It commanded an esteemed attention while it shined its glow before me in a discarding insolence. Prideful he sank within the depths of my being. As if plummeting to the earth all that questioned his purpose in Iron chains. The appearance of satisfaction paisted to his face. His ticking overture deeming the form of mortality on two legs. He gracefully pulled a silver case from his jacket pocket. Within its feude of interlocking parts a cigarette ejected from the side. Using his pointer finger from his left hand he ignited it while pursed between his lips. A bluish flame garnered the tip branding it with life on a smoke ladden extraction. He savored the first hit while staring silently at me. I stood upright from my chair. My kingship shining from the jeweled necklace amidst my chest. The shadows recoiled there stinging blackness while bowing before me. The sun trampled upon by a darkened haze shined solemnly within the now darkened room. Colors bent to my will and repressed there human attributes of foretelling. I staired at the man standing before me. Gracefully he kneeled to the course floor bowing his head in a silent obedience. The room hung within a dark staleness. Tendering its presence in the adlibbed seduction of my now heightened senses. Genelle stood beside me frozen in a compliment gesture. Holding the domicile of documents that held the next inkling to the companies proficient future. She was grey stained in a mannequin like pose. Her blood the catalyst of the dismal shade protruding forward into the shadows. I sipped her fragrance now stale becomming the stench of burnt suffering. I entangled upon her heartache like leeches feeding from the blood of her solitude. Her mother had recently passed away. She rarely spoke anything personal. Her whims detailed the many chapters of romance novels she read on her lunch breaks. I now sensed her in an extreme perfection. The nectar of her sadness entailed the truth in upsets upon the face of her charming delineation. She missed her mother dearly and sadness was drawn upon her heartbeat. Time awaited me. I was his alie in the cold brink of its churning blood. The secession of traditional loathing setting the stage of complacency upon his arrival.
He looked at me once again within a cracked funeral of smiling death in present reality. Once again baring his fangs of a subtle gesture. He whispered to me. "How can I assist you sir"?.....