Some Wonderful Story, part 03

She has some red-rimmed look on her face, sincerely wondering why on earth he had just called her "honey."
She was kind of teary, but the tears weren't concentrating anywhere enough to make drops. Her nostrils were all flared. Her hair was going in a bunch of different directions, all frizzy. She was somewhere between breathing heavily and making a squeaky sound. And she was standing very awkwardly, not attractive.
She was coming to the conclusion that maybe he wasn't holding her captive. Maybe she was just in the wrong place. She was looking around the room again, still looking confused, but I little more determined. There's a clock that shows the date as well as the time. Day of the week, too. She was focused on the date for a while with some intent hint of recognition. The guy was getting up by now and staring at her with an enormous amount of concern.
Some disembodied voice faded in. "You won't remember this date at any point, and.." as it faded right back out.
She pivoted and sprung into a determined race-walk down the hall of this enormous building. It was all some pale wood, but looked strong enough and well-maintained. She was looking fiercely at all of the numbers on the doors and sometimes fixing on the wall decorations.
"Honey, where are you going?" He was stumbling along behind her. "Babe, are you ok?" He caught up really quickly. He wasn't even breathing hard. He grabbed her really carefully, but also firmly and spun her around.

Just Drop Him

Sorgi was more ticked off than most people had ever seen him.
"Try it sometime, then. Being me. See if you can stomach being the black sheep of three different families."
Sorgi was really ugly. He didn't have much going for him. In the next instant he spun off a line of swear words, tripped, and looked incredibly stupid hitting the ground and continuing to swear.
His face froze in comical and hideous anger as his neck broke and he died, bent unpleasantly in half.
"Oh, dear, he's dead." a lot of people said dumbly.
It was incredibly rude of him to interrupt the leadership meeting party, and then raise a bunch of drama and die.
"Sorry I had to reschedule the meeting, you guys, let's get down to business," Abby was saying a week later. "We left off with the year's schedule. Like I said, I can do every Thursday. How's everyone else?"
After a short pause, Carl said, "Well, what about the things Sorgi was saying? Do you think we should...uh...rethink the way we have been doing things?"
Abby blinked plainly as if the very idea of a contradiction didn't compute with her.
Marla broke in diplomatically, saying, "Sorgi was very upset that day and his death was a tragedy."

Writer's Detour

"Fictional feelings again, eh?"
She turned and glared at his smug face. She balled up the piece of paper in front of her and launched it into the side can with a simmer.
"It's not compelling without fantasy." It curled out like smoke. She started another page.
She wrote intently for about three paragraphs.
The door swung open again. She looked up without any expression of surprise. It was more like she was trying to push it away with her eyes.
In her head she tripped over whether to say, "Oh, you," and how to say it. But the curvy little figure was intercepted just inside the door, by him of course. Then they were whispering. He did most of the talking.
She let them talk while she evenly creased the piece of paper into clean rectangles.
"Ooh, I wanna see!" trumpeted the curvy little figure.
The piece of paper spun to the can.
"No, you don't," she was trying to say with authority, but they were whispering some more. He was steering her out of the room.
The curvy figure turned one last time to say, "Well, why don't you just--" as he closed the door on her voice with utmost condescension.