Subbie's Short Stories

Amidst the triumphs and tribulations of saving lives, their blades sang a silent duet, each parry and thrust a graceful step in a dance of passion and conflict. She moved with elegance, her every strike a fluid arc of determination. He matched her with skillful finesse, their eyes locked in a dance of defiance and mutual respect. Their movements spoke of a shared history, a love of all things medicine, and a tale of intertwined destinies written in hearts and lives of those they interacted with.

As all good dances do, the battle neared its end, exhaustion softened their intensity, and they circled each other, breathing heavily, hearts racing. With a final, lingering gaze, they lowered their weapons in unspoken agreement. Two souls entwined yet destined for separate paths, they turned away, carrying with them the bittersweet ache of what might have been.

She wasn’t free.

It ended as it had began, making fun of other people harmlessly in a public setting.

“Wow the Sutton’s don’t look very happy do they?”

It wasn’t meant to be, but that didn’t mean they didn’t care.

It was sadder than either of them thought it would be.

It had the feel of a season finale, or maybe a series finale?

What will the spin-off be like?

“Let no one who loves be called altogether unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow.”
― J.M. Barrie, The Little Minister

My enemies have been vanquished, banished to the shadow realm by the fact that everyone now knows they do not actually add value to any projects they are on.

It all started when the new Kurosawa CEO arrived.

It was obvious to him – it’s obvious to everyone – that we have delivered nothing in the 3 years the team has existed. Half the team got the chop, and the rest have been merged with another team.

Ducky didn’t make it.

I’m not even sorry for him. He has made my life miserable for the best part of a year. He ignored my emails, stole my work, gave my work away, told people I was too busy to be given actual work. He replaced any actual work I tried to do with meaningless pointless restructuring of already existing protocols with his own ideas which made them worse in every way possible.

I spit on his grave.

If I ever meet him in a dark alley whilst I have my identity covered, he will suffer for what I went through.

Fresh off soliciting a child, Mike took a minute or three to take a long hard look at himself in a mirror.

He didn’t like what he saw.

No time to dwell on things, as Valentines Day fast approached.

“Dear Celine, Be my Valentine?” Mike left the card half hidden where she would see it when she arrived at work.

Mike was at Home Depot buying a new chair when he received a text from Celine.

“Hey Mike! Found the card that you left, that was very thoughtful of you! Thank you for asking me to be your Valentine, I so value our friendship & enjoy working together. Hope we can remain friends in the future.”

“Guess I’d better get a rope as well.”

Mike was feeling a lot better about things.

He had gotten over that embarrassing event involving his friend Katie and moved on completely.

Confidence was at an all-time high.

Walking into work one Friday morning Mike struck up a conversation with a woman he’d seen around surgery a few times. She was gorgeous and they chatted as they walked together into the hospital from the parking ramp.

“I have to say, I absolutely love your accent,” the woman told Mike.

“Thanks,” said Mike, “Any chance I can get your name and number and maybe we can go for a walk in the future and continue talking?”

“ABSOLUTELY!”

The enthusiasm was real.

They exchanged names and numbers, and Mike went on his day walking on air. During some downtime, he decided to stalk her on social media to get a better idea of who this beautiful lady was and learn more about her.

Born in 2003.

Shit.

Katie was one of the best coworkers you could ask for.

She did her work before she was asked to, better than it needed to be done, and was enjoyable to work with even on the busy days.

Mike always looked forward to the days he got to work with Katie. Time passed by quickly and even the most menial tasks were enjoyable in her company.

It didn’t take long for feelings to develop.

“Say Katie,” said Mike, “Would you be free Friday night for dinner and a walk sometime?”

“Like a date?” queried Katie.

“Yeah I guess so, like a date…” Mike said hesitantly.

“Oh Mike, I thought you knew,” said Katie pityingly; “I’m gay.”

I enjoy working.

I enjoy working hard.

Ever since I started treating Ducky like I would a potential girlfriend, his demeanor towards me has completely changed.

After a long week of doing no work at all, with the one project I managed to get given and completed being shelved as ‘potentially useful for the future’, Ducky asked me out to lunch.

It had been four weeks since I had discussed work with him in any context. No slack messages, no emails, no phone calls; I had managed to keep all our conversations free from any talk of what we got paid to do.

Friday lunch was no different. Close to three hours of drinks and light conversation, with topics ranging from the latest English cricket exploits to the surprising discovery of diamonds in the Nambian desert.

As we stood up shakily due to the copious amounts of alcohol we had consumed, Ducky took my hand and shook it vigourously.

“You know Rob, it’s really nice to not discuss work for a change!”

Dwayne was a positive man. He could never be accused of having negative mindset.

However, Dwayne was a sick man. Necrotizing fasciitis had taken a grip on him, and his prognosis began to look worse and worse.

After a few days of intense medications and surgery every 24 hours to clear away the dead tissue, he slowly began to improve.

“You know guys,” Dwayne said, chatting to a few techs a few days later; “They told me I was one day away from dying!” “I wasn’t worried though, I’m sure they say that to everyone.”

No; no they do not Dwayne.

“Hi, I’m Noelle.”

“Welcome to Surgical Services, my name is Kathy, nice to meet you.” “Is it your first day?”

“Oh, I’ve been here for ages, I’ve just called in a lot because I haven’t felt very well.” “In fact I’ve missed six out of my last nine shifts.”

“That is unfortunate… anyway, let’s go grab this orthopedic patient and get them ready for surgery!”

“Ok.”

So, what shifts will you be working when you are off orientation Noelle?”

“My master schedule is 5 days a week, Monday to Friday, 1430 till 2300.”

“That is a difficult schedule.”

“Yes, it’s not going to be easy, what with me being pregnant and all.”

I enjoy working.

I enjoy working hard.

Ducky enjoys doing no work. The less work he does, the more enjoyment is derived. In my first few weeks at Deloitte, I have clearly given off an unfavorable impression to Ducky about my views on his work ethic.

I have messaged him on Mondays and Fridays (when Ducky is supposedly working from home) and been completely ignored. It makes sense, he cannot let the new hire disturb his three-day work week. Setting such a precedent would ruin years of careful cultivation of his work environment.

Our dynamic is that of a guy (me) madly in love with a girl (him) who has no interest in the pursuer.

So, I’ve decided to change tack. I will feign no interest in him (work) at all.

TBC.