Franklin came in with a dour expression. I looked up from my desk, briefly considered it, but did not inquire. “Schedule made yet?” he asked.

“Almost,” I said.

“Ok.”

Four hours later we were in the break room having lunch.

“Yeah that’s right. I don’t read footnotes,” Jack, one of the editors, was saying.

“But why?”

“If it’s so important it should be with the rest of the text.”

“So you’re taking a stand against footnotes,” I said.

“A stand, yes. Is that a joke?”*

“A little bit,” I said.

Frank pushed his bowl away, cursed at Jack and left the room.

“What’s with him?” asked Jack.

“Bad day,” I guessed.

I found Frank in the men’s room adjusting his tie. At that moment we heard a scream from the office. We ran in and found Jack chasing a girl around his desk. They were both gasping for air and laughing. I looked at Frank. His eyes were sullen and sad.

---

*Jack is a wanker with no subtlety in humor. I can say this here because I don’t expect he’ll ever read it.