Henry liked the way the building was connected to the parking garage. It had double glass doors on a second level opening onto a full glass walkway leading to the main offices. There was a nice lightness to the pathway and it always felt like a good start the day strolling through the sunshine even though it often opened doors onto a landscape of slow torture and “death” from non-action, indecision and loneliness. He had just arrived for the day and was just entering the walkway, heading diagonally towards the office when he saw Ralph ahead in his usual blue tie and wrinkled shirt, carrying a shoe box and moving at a hurried pace with Vice President O’Brien ahead of him in his freshly-pressed business suit. Ralph’s shoe suddenly caught the carpet a bit and with a stutter step, The box that he was carrying popped out of his arms sending one of the sneakers flying up in the air, in an arc that headed straight towards the back of Vice President O’Brien’s head hitting him as it descended. O’Brien stopped dead in his tracks and stood there, still for a long moment. Ralph stepped forward to pick up the blue tissue paper and the two shoes that had fallen out from his hands and he muttered, “I’m very sorry.”
I am definitively not the best choice for this project for an innumerable number of reasons. First, I write sentences like that one I just wrote. Who would want to read the crazy rantings of a lunatic who has been declared unfit to talk to by most of his closest friends? Who would want to have to deal with me after I have declared myself the Archangel Michael and am also running for the President of the United States. I am not even sure why my family even talks to me. My theory is DNA has some sick kind of magnetism that compels you to deal with your asshole relatives. So I am the family virus as was my brother and our grandmother hated us because we were in line with Satan to eat babies or something like that. Why would you pick up the phone when I call? I mean you usually do not but many times you do and I can hear the regret in silence as I go on and on and on about me. I am that guy. I would never hire me again and just ask my bosses and they will say the same. I am so glad that I do not have a job. It is so awesome to have no money, friends, sex, food, etc.