Dunes ((Scömìche Short Story))

09

It surprisingly doesn't take long to clean up the war zone that is Scott's office, and before long all the papers are stacked and pinned beneath a paperweight shaped like a music note. The cold coffee has been disposed of and replaced with a bottle of water. Scott sits at his desk, fingers forming a pyramid in front of his face as he peruses Mitchell Grassi's application again. He purposely avoids looking at the picture, because last time he tried that, he ended up in the desert again.

An hour passes before his door swings open, and Kirstin pops her head in. Her gaze is trained on the small bit of floor not occupied by Scott's desk.

"Hi?" Scott tries.

Kirstin's head snaps up. "Oh, you're awake," she says, and enters his office. Scott watches, intrigued, as she walks over to the tiny trash can in the corner and peers inside, then looks back up at him with a strange expression on her face. Without explanation, she leaves, heels tapping on the carpet.

Okay, weird. Scott rolls his desk chair over to the trash can and looks inside as well. The only things in there are several tissues, his discarded coffee cup, and a crumpled piece of paper he found on the floor. None of it, he thinks, would interest Kirstin enough to come all the way to his office. He shakes his head in confusion and rolls back over to his computer.