There’s no way you’re going in after it. You have to leave it behind.

The next morning is even worse than the day before.

By the time you arrive even your socks are dripping with sweat. September shouldn’t be this hot, should it? Fucking global warming.

The minute you step into the building, you’re once again overwhelmed by the smell of your own pungent body odor.

You have too much on your plate this morning for a full-on sink-bath. You’ll just have to go into your coworker’s desk drawer. You don’t know much about Annelise Thomsen–she just moved into your cube a few weeks ago–but you’re pretty sure you saw a stick of deodorant in her drawer once when she was pulling out Post-its.

You open the top drawer.

There’s nothing in it…except what appears to be your toilet-abandoned phone.

It’s the same model. Which wouldn’t normally be weird, but your phone is so outdated they don’t even make replacement parts for it anymore, and it was discontinued after just a few months in stores.

Also, there’s a damp patch underneath this one.

Like it’s been… leaking.

You shut the drawer slowly, unsettled, and walk away.

On second thought, maybe you’ll just let yourself smell a bit funky today.

After all, if this Annelise is literally diving into toilets to pick up shit-covered objects, you don’t really care whether she’s offended by your B.O.

It’s too bad though. Smelling like this, you probably can’t talk to anyone about moving cubes until at least tomorrow.

THE END.


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