Jonny and Sally at War

It was ten minutes to twelve WDC time (it was ten to six in London, Greenwich Mean Time). Jonny wiped the late afternoon sweat from his upper lip. Still no entry from Sally, his Southern Belle.

His fingers itched over the 'post a new message' link of the Daily Flash Fiction Contest. She wasn't there. This was his chance. Only ten entries, due to close and no sign of Sally. He looked over his shoulder into the emptying office where co-workers wished him a good night and weekend.

He looked back at the screen and refreshed the page. It was now six minutes to twelve and he really shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. One curly bitem later and he rocked back in his swivel chair confident that his story about cows, bibles and chocolate cakes would be the literary forerunner in the field.

"Still here, Jonny?" His middle-aged and balding boss passed the front of his desk.

"Going in a minute, Mr Arkle." He slapped on a smile. "Just finishing up the Harris Account."

"Good lad."

Mr Arkle didn't even look up as he passed on by the copier and into his little office. Jonny sighed with relief and re-checked the computer.

What?

No.

Yes! There it was as bold as life '#124 My Entry' and a little black suitcase called Sally.

He logged out and turned off the computer in defeat. When he stood he was jolted by the silent presence of Mr Arkle looming over him.

"Good to see we employ a creative type but I'd rather you didn't use company time and resources to pursue your hobbies."

"Yes, Mr Arkle. Sorry, Mr Arkle."

"Besides, cows, bibles and chocolate cakes are hardly fitting subjects for a city boy like you."

(298 wds)