sleep now.
She reached for the remote and turned on the television, thinking that maybe she’ll watch one of her soap operas. That would help her doze off again. She turned on the television. The connection seemed to be restored and the news is on, but not the Channel 4 news where Bobby works. It’s the Channel 5 News. Better not let Bobby know, she thought. Wouldn’t want him to know the competitor is on in their house. She tucked the pillow up under her head and laid the remote down at her side.
That asshole Bob Varner, from the Channel 5 News, was blabbering on about something that seemed to catch her attention. What’s this? Massive livestock deaths? This doesn’t seem logical, she thought. Bob Varner got the story before Channel 4. Bobby won’t like this. The Channel 5 reporter kept talking of a massive death of livestock across southern Kentucky. Several farms had experienced the sudden loss of cattle, chickens, and pigs, nearly all of their animals. Nikki thought to herself that it was tragic for such a thing to happen, knowing the farmers would be hurting bad for money now having lost their main source of income. The economy would certainly take a hard it, and it hasn’t been a good year for the budget in Washington. The selfish thought ran through her mind that she’s glad she’s a vegetarian. Then she had a cold thought suddenly. What if the wave of livestock deaths wasn’t just a random thing? What if previous animals could be infected with whatever it is that caused these animals to die and the infected meat had been circulated throughout the country? The reporter hadn’t said anything about any poisonings or other animals being affected. Nikki just had the thought about it because of her health consciousness. She’s a nurse. That’s what they do. She changed the channel to one of her soap operas. Not this depressing news stuff anymore.
At the Channel 4 News station, Bobby plopped down in his uncomfortable chair. It could have been an old wooden school desk chair considering how much it made his ass hurt. The station wasn’t nice enough to the storywriters to give them something decent to sit in. They gave the nice plush and comfortable chairs to the newscasters. The chairs you could fall asleep in after only sitting in it for five minutes. The cubicle surrounding Bobby made him feel trapped and separated from the real world. He thought to himself why he continues to come here day after day and sit there being miserable. He thinks the same thought every day. He just never does anything about it. Quitting his job isn’t an option though. Sure, Nikki could cover the bills, but he didn’t like the thought of being a stay at home dad and his books are no where near being finished enough to send to a publisher. Then it would take years for the first one to hit the bookstores if any one of his writings did make it that far. Too many ifs.
A big hand slapped Bobby across the back of the neck, causing him to drop his pencil on the floor. He let out a cry as he grabbed the back of his neck and turned to see who had just given him a good whack. Pete Sanders slapped his cold, grimy looking hand across Bobby’s neck. “What the hell you do that for?” Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hey, man,” said Pete. “I’m just trying to help you wake up this morning.” Pete laughed as he stood in the entrance to Bobby’s cubicle, holding a huge coffee cup in one hand and the other trying to hold in his gut as it jiggled from laughing so hard.
“Yeah, thanks.” Bobby picked up his pencil and continued writing on his yellow legal pad.
“Whatcha writing?” Pete leaned over Bobby’s shoulder, trying to catch a peek.
“I got an idea for a story.” Bobby kept scribbling on the paper. “I want to get my thoughts together before I present it to Masterson.”
“Ha. That son of a bitch. You know he won’t let you bring any story ideas to him.” Pete laughed. “He never plays receiver.
She reached for the remote and turned on the television, thinking that maybe she’ll watch one of her soap operas. That would help her doze off again. She turned on the television. The connection seemed to be restored and the news is on, but not the Channel 4 news where Bobby works. It’s the Channel 5 News. Better not let Bobby know, she thought. Wouldn’t want him to know the competitor is on in their house. She tucked the pillow up under her head and laid the remote down at her side.
That asshole Bob Varner, from the Channel 5 News, was blabbering on about something that seemed to catch her attention. What’s this? Massive livestock deaths? This doesn’t seem logical, she thought. Bob Varner got the story before Channel 4. Bobby won’t like this. The Channel 5 reporter kept talking of a massive death of livestock across southern Kentucky. Several farms had experienced the sudden loss of cattle, chickens, and pigs, nearly all of their animals. Nikki thought to herself that it was tragic for such a thing to happen, knowing the farmers would be hurting bad for money now having lost their main source of income. The economy would certainly take a hard it, and it hasn’t been a good year for the budget in Washington. The selfish thought ran through her mind that she’s glad she’s a vegetarian. Then she had a cold thought suddenly. What if the wave of livestock deaths wasn’t just a random thing? What if previous animals could be infected with whatever it is that caused these animals to die and the infected meat had been circulated throughout the country? The reporter hadn’t said anything about any poisonings or other animals being affected. Nikki just had the thought about it because of her health consciousness. She’s a nurse. That’s what they do. She changed the channel to one of her soap operas. Not this depressing news stuff anymore.
At the Channel 4 News station, Bobby plopped down in his uncomfortable chair. It could have been an old wooden school desk chair considering how much it made his ass hurt. The station wasn’t nice enough to the storywriters to give them something decent to sit in. They gave the nice plush and comfortable chairs to the newscasters. The chairs you could fall asleep in after only sitting in it for five minutes. The cubicle surrounding Bobby made him feel trapped and separated from the real world. He thought to himself why he continues to come here day after day and sit there being miserable. He thinks the same thought every day. He just never does anything about it. Quitting his job isn’t an option though. Sure, Nikki could cover the bills, but he didn’t like the thought of being a stay at home dad and his books are no where near being finished enough to send to a publisher. Then it would take years for the first one to hit the bookstores if any one of his writings did make it that far. Too many ifs.
A big hand slapped Bobby across the back of the neck, causing him to drop his pencil on the floor. He let out a cry as he grabbed the back of his neck and turned to see who had just given him a good whack. Pete Sanders slapped his cold, grimy looking hand across Bobby’s neck. “What the hell you do that for?” Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hey, man,” said Pete. “I’m just trying to help you wake up this morning.” Pete laughed as he stood in the entrance to Bobby’s cubicle, holding a huge coffee cup in one hand and the other trying to hold in his gut as it jiggled from laughing so hard.
“Yeah, thanks.” Bobby picked up his pencil and continued writing on his yellow legal pad.
“Whatcha writing?” Pete leaned over Bobby’s shoulder, trying to catch a peek.
“I got an idea for a story.” Bobby kept scribbling on the paper. “I want to get my thoughts together before I present it to Masterson.”
“Ha. That son of a bitch. You know he won’t let you bring any story ideas to him.” Pete laughed. “He never plays receiver.
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