Point of View

As part of my group blogging experience (GBE2) I had to write a post this week based on the prompt Point of View.  The goal was to write two short narratives, one in the first person and one in the third person.  I thought that I would take my first ever crack at a short story of sorts.  I struggled with this one on several levels.  One - the petrified level.  I have only ever written "commentary" type blog posts or full-blown research papers or boring work reports.  The idea of creating a piece of fiction and a narrative left me feeling a little bit vulnerable.  For those of you who know me well will likely recognize that this is more than a little inspired by real life events.  Hope you enjoy!

Oh. My. Goodness.  What the hell is that?!  Frig.  Is that what I think it is?  Could it really be?  I don't know if I am equipped to handle this.  It looks like a mouse dropping, but it looks too big.  Oh my gosh, it is even worse than I thought ... a ... rat turd?  Oh good lord, in MY cubicle.  I will have to Lysol everything.  And I am wearing open-toed shoes.  Dammit, I knew I should have worn my hooker boots!  Crap, what about the shoes on the floor?  What if there is a flipping rodent hiding in one.  Okay, I must remain calm.  Deep, cleansing breaths.  Happy thoughts: puppies, puppies, puppies, puppies.  In through the nose, out through the mouth.  Happy, happy, happy, happy.

"Lola?  Is everything okay?  You look a little pale."

"I am so glad you are here, I am freaking out.  Can you look over there in the corner and tell me what you see?"

Megan stooped down to take a closer look, "do we have mice on this floor?"

"I know they are likely around, but I like to believe that they don't exist... so you think it is a rodent dropping," Lola squeaked, gripping the edge of the cubicle wall.  

"Well, either that or a raisin," Megan chuckled.

"Hey, George!  Can you come here a sec, we need your opinion," Lola shouted.

George turned on his heel and came to stand in the cubicle.  "Do you have enough shoes in here?  I would go with the green ones."

"Ha, ha," Lola rolled her eyes and pointed, "no, in the corner, what do you think that is?"

George stepped closer and squinted down at the small, brown pellet.  "Ewww, I hate to tell you, but that has to be a rat turd, it is too big to be from a mouse.  Don't worry, they won't hurt you."

Lola started backing out of the cubicle and down the hall.

"Lola, are you okay?  Are you really upset about this?"

"George, of course I am upset.  They are the scum of the earth.  Do you know how many germs they carry?  How am I going to be able to come to work knowing that there are..." she paused, swallowing hard "you know, those things around here?!"

Suddenly Sam, one of the building managers, came into the cubicle, which seemed to be getting smaller by the minute.  "Ladies, George.  What's all the commotion about?"

Lola's lip began to quiver as her eyes welled up with tears.  "Ummmm," she hesitated, "we seem to have a rodent situation, see, over there in the corner."

"Are you sure," Sam sighed.  

"Pretty sure, the three of us think it is either a mouse or a rat dropping.  Maybe you could set some traps," Megan suggested.

"Okay, well, I'll get rid of this first," replied Sam.

"Here you go," Lola offered him a tissue.  "The germs.  I have hand sanitizer as well."

Sam took the tissue as the three of them watched apprehensively.  He picked it up with the tissue and began to examine it.  He stood there for a few seconds with a puzzled expression as he turned it around, and around, and around.  Finally, he turned to them and said "helluva fuss over a raisin."