There's a prompt going on at the moment in The Ink Well community to write a story, based on the idea of Tomorrow.
Here's the link for anyone interested in participating.
@theinkwell/the-ink-well-prompt-54-plus-weekly-challenge-and-prize-announcement
Today is tomorrow, tomorrow never comes after all, so why wait? John thought to himself.
The plan was to go to work and tell his boss exactly what he thought of him, then he'd tell April how he felt about her. Coward, he thought. All of these things he's told himself to do over the years never came true. Now what? Here's another one for the long list of to-do's, which turned into a memorial of his spinelessness. If's, because and but's always seemed to clog his mind after his deadline to do something had passed.
John felt as though he never stood up for himself. Why though? Was there a reason? No, he admitted to himself with a defeated sigh. Some people are naturally good at conflict, John though had always taken the outward explosive tendencies and repressed them. At least, that's what his therapist had told him was the problem. He needed to find his voice but always felt as though something stitched his lips together every time something displeased him. He's worked now, at the same company for twenty-six years, he'd seen a plethora of managers come and go. Always being left feeling as though he deserved to climb the ladder, but, never did. An old piece of furniture. That's what I am. Too good to get rid of, but, not good enough to sit on.
Sometimes I wish I was a chair. Everyone appreciates the comfort of a good chair, yeah. Chairs don't get stressed, they're happy just being themselves. John imagined himself on all fours as that smarmy son of a bitch Jerry sat on his back. Giving John that occasional smirk, he loved to throw around.
I was Jerry's age when I started working here, he fell into the position, almost randomly. He never rubbed it in verbally, but, John could see the look in his eyes, heard the double-edged wording. That pat on the shoulder. Tomorrow starts today.
John made it to the fourth floor in no time, passing by his colleges as he did. The occasional nod, or "Good morning." Floated his way. Rows upon rows of "Good morning. How was your weekend? See you tomorrow." The verbal equivalent of an emoji. Sad face, John thought to himself.
He looked at his desk and his headset sitting beside the keyboard. Then he peaked across the hall, the glass wall rooms. That's where I belong. No Jerry though, must be late. Again.
John slumped into his trusty chair. His steed, which carried this knight in rust-covered armour through the best years of his life.
A few hours passed as he was absorbed with his mundane routine. Talking with and helping the many customers of their company. Dealing with frustrated unhappy people all day, every day had a way of grinding the spirit. Roughly one in ten actually says "Thank you."
John rubbed his eyes and took off his headset. First break of the day. Then he heard the sporadic footsteps, off-beat, like someone picking up a pair of drumsticks for the first time and giving them a whirl. He felt the usual sweaty hand on his shoulder. "Hey there big guy," Big guy, there's no word for my disdain. What does he want now? "I'm going to need you to stay late tonight, is that alright?" Jerry walked away before John could even look around at him. "No."
Jerry stopped, turning slowly. "Excuse me?" His smooth forehead creased, as his eyebrows raised slightly. "I said no. I can't stay late tonight." John felt as though a hush fell over the crowd, he could feel the eyes of his colleges on him. The air in the room was gone completely and it felt as though his stomach was dancing. He clenched his fists to try and stop his hands from shaking. "Okay. If you can't do it, we're gonna have trouble, big guy." Jerry said as he pushed back his thick brown locks. "What's my name?" John asked.
Jerry gave that sideways smirk he seemed to wear constantly. "What?" He asked while shaking his head slightly as if he didn't understand the question.
"I hear you saying big guy, mate, buddy. I've never heard you actually call people by their names. Mines John," John pointed to his friend across from him. "That's Dave," Pointing a thumb behind him. "Her name is Susan." John stood up, moving each hand in a circular motion. "We're human beings. We have lives outside of here, we don't just get thought into existence as we walk through the door. We deserve respect. I would be happy to do overtime if the money was worth it. I would be happy to spend my life working here if I was treated with a bit more respect. I'd gladly do this every day of my life if it wasn't for bastards like you, Jerry!" John's rage had been released, instantly the tight grip around his heart loosened."
"Did you just call me a bastard?" Jerry asked while looking around. "I'm going to need to speak with you in my office," Jerry said with authority as he looked away. But, then turned back, this time looking at the floor. "John." He sheepishly said.
"I'll be there when I'm good and ready." John said. To that Jerry nodded. "Understandable. Take your time."
John sat back down in his chair after Jerry had walked away and back into his glass box. "Good man John, someone had to tell him." Dave said in a hushed voice.
Feeling the light touch upon his shoulder, "Great to see you standing up for yourself. Jerry is a bastard, we all think it." Susan whispered to him.
It's a small victory, John thought to himself. But, I'm glad I did it. The old John would have been afraid of being called into the office, thinking about it though, after so many years of service there's no way I'll be fired. Yeah, I'm safe.