The Diary of Rikkard Ambrose

I

Friday, 19th December, 1834
The time is 16.47. Linton remains in his office.
The days are cold. My employees ask for fires to be put on in the offices, but wood costs money that may be spent on more beneficial commodities and fires burn time in keeping them alive.
16.49. I'm hungry. For Linton.
17.00. That was a joke.
17.01. Sort of.
17.02. I can't concentrate, I haven't eaten since breakfast at c. 5.19 this morning.
17.04. I have consumed the bar of chocolate in my desk that I was saving for Linton on 25th December. It is colder. The sun has set. I'm wasting time writing in my diary. I have a diary. What has the world come to? I put it down to the emotions I feel when Linton does that thing with his face. The smile. He's coming.
18.45. Linton has gone home, Karim is following him, as per my instructions (watching him leave my office, I was able to view his behind in all it's voluptuous glory) (Linton's, not Karim's). I put this in place because she fell over on her way to work in the snow last week. It shall not be disclosed how this was brought to my attention.
18.48. I hope no one finds my diary.
18.50. It remains chilly. I have moved my chair four inches to the left, away from the window and as far as is comfortable under this desk to maintain an optimum temperature for work efficiency. I shall rest soon. For now, work must be done.

Monday, 22nd December, 1834
The time is 11.17. Linton insists I buy myself a coat. Alas, coats are a frivolous and unnecessary garment and I refuse to pander to the middle class London businessman's desire to engorge my materialistic spirit. The glimmer of warmth I receive from Linton's face-twitch/ smile that I receive everyday is enough to sustain me. That, and the knowledge of the inevitable heat death of the universe.
12.15. Note to self: find method of preventing Empire House and three most significant occupants from expiring in the inevitable heat death of the universe.
13.43. I have decided that the heat death of the universe is no longer inevitable. Physics will worship me. #suckitNewton
15.59. Linton entered my office in silence and made me jump, but I played it off as an irritated wave of dismissal. I am confident it has reminded Linton of my power over him. I ate lunch today: celery and cheese. I must now shower, for I dropped Stilton down my shirt. Don't ask, it was a side-effect of the wave.
15.07. You can't ask, you're a book.

Tuesday, 23rd December, 1834
The time is 16.55. Linton has asked for tomorrow and the next two days off for a "holiday." I fear Linton is deranged. I did not reply; he is still here. I shall now reply to Linton.
17.34. Things got wild. I have reached a compromise with Linton. I will now take a cold shower. Linton is back in his office and intends to work late to minimise time at work tomorrow.
17.40. The compromise is that Linton will work for half the day on 24th and 26th. She will not be here for Christmas. The new chocolate bar is tempting me to present it to Linton ASAP. Perhaps I ought to eat it to rid myself of this temptation. I blame Linton and his obsession with it for my own insatiable desire for solid chocolate. Linton must be punished. I have a few ideas on how to do it. They shall not be immortalised in ink. I must return to work.
17.50. As I turned away from the window to return to my desk, having written that last entry, Linton entered my office. There was nothing to do but place the diary discreetly down my trousers. I am confident that Linton did not notice, for he left swiftly and did not question the bulge it formed there. I am also confident that painting 'DIARY' on the front of this diary was not a good use of my time and nor is it an asset to my life. I must remember: knowledge is power is time is money.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think :)
If there are any mistakes or inaccuracies, do let me know.
Please vote and comment, do your thing, Wattpadders! I really want Sir Rob to see this (possibly even enjoy it????).
Also, I'm pretty sure I've got the years muddled, but let's just pretend that the story takes place in 1834 ;) - soz, Ifrits!