Daydreaming the Truth

Avatar Author: dt I have no idea what anyone would want me to put here. Read Bio

Lately, my fantasy life has taken something of a twist.

It started off innocently: I found that by imagining just an extra few steps taken by Shelly from the front counter, I could easily reroute her from the water cooler to my desk. She would look around, and finding my cubicle unwatched, lean over and kiss me hard on the mouth. Her hair would fall into my face, smelling like a cross between the break room and unnamed perfume.

Sadly, these reveries invariably were interrupted by my boss, a ruddy sergeant named Potaski who always has muffin crumbs on his uniform. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say I’ve been signing the time card of a tree trunk. Look at you! Work!” I hate this man.

About a week ago I began replacing the nameless perps that had dominated my youthful imagination with real people, like Sarge. After one particularly fervent episode where I scuffled with and triumphantly jailed the dreaded Potaski, I came to, and minutes later noticed a red mark on my left palm, in the shape of a handcuff.

View this story's details

Sequels

Oh no! This story doesn't have a sequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?

Comments

Get the conversation started! All you have to do is Sign In and you can post your comment.

Not yet a member of our fun little community? It's cool, Joining Ficly is fast, fun, and easy!

Inspired by

Growing up, I always wanted to be a cop. All the other kids on the playground ran around pretending to be UltraDude and Magma Lady and preten...

They Don't Give Awards for Courage in the Face of Papercuts by Geebs

This story's tags are