Sally stood in front of the wall of boxes. There must have been about two dozen of them. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Damn headache again, she thought. Go away.
How did this happen? She tried desperately to recall her actions, the sequence of events, what answers she gave to that stupid questionnaire that led to this whole consignment being delivered to the volunteer centre.
“Oh honestly!” She exclaimed out loud. “Rocks for brains!”
“They won’t disappear by shouting at them, you know?”
Sally glanced to her right where the voice came from.
“Not you again?” she hissed at Matt. “Do you not have a home to go to?”
“And how lovely to see you too,” he replied. “Always knew we were meant for each other.”
“Sorry. Bad time. Did not mean to snap.” Sally turned back to the boxes, sighing heavily.
“I just cannot believe this situation. These damn boxes and their idiotic contents, nowhere to hide them, nowhere to send them, nowhere to return them. I mean, there must be a solution somehow to getting rid of the stuff, don’t you think? They just serve as a permanent embarrassment sitting here in the volunteer centre.”
Matt assumed what he thought was a pensive stance. He stroked his chin for extra effect, hoping that Sally would notice and turn her attention to him. He always dreamed of a captive audience, and his timing now could be perfect provided he found the most appropriate words.
“I might just have the answer to your problem,” he said, raising an eyebrow in his attempt to add to the allure of his message.
Sally did not move. She was still staring at the boxes, in a trance.
“I said, I might have the answer to your problem,” Matt repeated.
“Don’t tell me. You have an empty warehouse in the countryside that is crying out for a delivery of plastic battery operated vibrators that look like pink rabbits?”
“You knew?”
“I did? I was just postulating.”
“Oh. Well. Funny that, because I do actually have access to an empty warehouse. Not quite in the countryside, but close enough.”
How did this happen? She tried desperately to recall her actions, the sequence of events, what answers she gave to that stupid questionnaire that led to this whole consignment being delivered to the volunteer centre.
“Oh honestly!” She exclaimed out loud. “Rocks for brains!”
“They won’t disappear by shouting at them, you know?”
Sally glanced to her right where the voice came from.
“Not you again?” she hissed at Matt. “Do you not have a home to go to?”
“And how lovely to see you too,” he replied. “Always knew we were meant for each other.”
“Sorry. Bad time. Did not mean to snap.” Sally turned back to the boxes, sighing heavily.
“I just cannot believe this situation. These damn boxes and their idiotic contents, nowhere to hide them, nowhere to send them, nowhere to return them. I mean, there must be a solution somehow to getting rid of the stuff, don’t you think? They just serve as a permanent embarrassment sitting here in the volunteer centre.”
Matt assumed what he thought was a pensive stance. He stroked his chin for extra effect, hoping that Sally would notice and turn her attention to him. He always dreamed of a captive audience, and his timing now could be perfect provided he found the most appropriate words.
“I might just have the answer to your problem,” he said, raising an eyebrow in his attempt to add to the allure of his message.
Sally did not move. She was still staring at the boxes, in a trance.
“I said, I might have the answer to your problem,” Matt repeated.
“Don’t tell me. You have an empty warehouse in the countryside that is crying out for a delivery of plastic battery operated vibrators that look like pink rabbits?”
“You knew?”
“I did? I was just postulating.”
“Oh. Well. Funny that, because I do actually have access to an empty warehouse. Not quite in the countryside, but close enough.”