503 words
This is awful and it was hell and it was stupid. I’ve been up since 2:30 am and I figured if I started writing, something would happen. lol no. And then I got caught up in what the thing was that there was far too many of; first I went to the Star Trek tribbles, then gremlins, and then nanobots (a They Might Be Giants song). But then I hyper focused on the reality of nanobots and what they actually are and had to look that up and… ugh. I hated every second of this.
Angela frowned at the screen. She supposed she was experiencing cognitive dissonance, she told herself, because what she was seeing did not match up to what she was expecting. “Or what I had hoped for, let’s be honest,” she said aloud. She cradled her mug in both hands and took a long pull of the cold coffee. Her coworkers made fun of how she liked her brew, the repeated quip about how she should have a little coffee with her cream and sugar long since predictable and humorless. Angela ignored them. She had no time or patience for coffee snobs, or really, anyone who cared so much about others’ personal and harmless habits.
“Run them again,” she said to herself. She knew it was useless, but that’s what you do, right? You check and recheck to make sure it’s accurate. She ran the numbers again and pushed back from her desk, watching the computer do its terrible calculations across the screen. She finished her coffee and stood up, looking around the room. It was quiet and empty, but then, it usually was this time of night. Even the most diligent engineers had gone home, or, if it weren’t home, off to the nearest bar or speakeasy. Are we still doing the speakeasy thing? Angela thought, remembering it was all the rage at one time. You had to know a guy and there’d be a secret door and a password, all to access overly complicated drinks made by someone with overly complicated facial hair. It was very silly to Angela, but she kept those thoughts to herself. Who was she to care so much about other people’s personal and harmless habits?
Her back was to the screen, but she knew enough time had elapsed for the computer to complete its task. She didn’t turn to look at it right away. Was she afraid, she wondered? “Yes,” she said aloud. “Yes I am.”
She sat down slowly, as if her chair might suddenly dart from underneath her. Her movements were deliberate and reverent, as if she were attending a funeral. Studying the screen, she confirmed her respectful demeanor was, in fact, appropriate for the occasion.
“That’s far too many,” she said. “Far too many.”
Angela did something then that she almost never does—and certainly not at work. She laughed. It was a chuckle at first, but bubbled into something wild and uncontrollable. Her gasps and wheezes echoed through the empty office, bouncing off the brick walls and desks loaded with Funko Pops. “This is it,” Angela thought. “This is the moment I actually lose my mind.” The thought sobered her a bit, and she wiped her eyes as her laughter sputtered and died.
When Cortexis started down the nanobots path, Angela was cautiously excited. It’s something she believed would truly make a difference in human life; the advances in healthcare just the tip of the iceberg. And she believed leadership when they said they would develop it ethically and with safety foremost in mind. She thought back to that day. She remembered being ushered into the board room, just herself and the CTO.
Clamhead 