The Ordinary Haunting

1. The Boring End

I walked into the office, surprised. It wasn't at all where I figured I'd end up when I died. I pulled an old tissue from my pocket and wiped at my forehead, still breathing hard from the run, and scanned the heads of my coworkers curiously. No-one seemed to have noticed me yet. Off was leaning back in his chair and picking at his nose. I dragged my feet to his desk and stared at him over the divider that separated him from where I used to sit.

"I suppose I could be here to haunt this bastard." I fingered some manuscript notes I'd put on his desk for distribution two weeks ago. "Make sure he actually does some work. Wait, am I being sent to hell? Is this what I get for all those years doing his work for him? More?"

Off blew at the nose hair stuck to his finger and pulled out his phone. I watched as he opened his call history and clicked on the uppermost number. Mine.

I spun away from my best friend and wandered down the room, craning my neck to catch sight of Arm's desk by the tea room. He was looking into his lap, fringe flopping over his eyes and hiding his expression. I enjoyed this irregular chance to sneak up on him. I came around by his shoulder and peeked at what he was doing. He had a bright pink Valentine's Day card lined up in the open pages of a graphic design textbook and was carefully drawing hearts into flowers.

"Ew," I giggled. Arm twitched and looked up. I hummed to myself. Mrs. Chansook had always been convinced her grandson was 'perceptive'. Or 'receptive'. Or some other '-ceptive'.

"ARM," Off bellowed across the office. We both jumped. Off had pushed his chair out and was rummaging around at my desk.

"Wh--," Arm began.

"TAY. GO."

Arm's card fluttered to the floor as he threw himself towards Off. The two of them tripped and stumbled out of the office with everyone looking on in confusion. I bent to pick up the card and tried to flatten out the dent in the back.

My hands started to shake a little. I sat in Arm's chair and shoved them into my pockets while I waited. I prayed to be dragged away. Prayed to suddenly find myself in the back of Off's car, a pull in my stomach tying me to one or even both of them. I'd be okay with that. I could spend whatever time I needed, ironing out any old wrinkles that might be left in our relationship that were keeping me here. Of course my soul wanted me to do that. And once I could be sure that they would be alright without me, I'd happily move on, hopefully to a place with lots of sunflowers, and bright blue skies, and late summer sunsets.

That really would be nice.

New exited the tea room behind me, balancing a hot chocolate atop a planner and chewing on his lip as he listened to something through some ear pods buried deep in his ears. The usual tuft of hair was sticking out over his eyebrow, and the back of his shirt was loose like a tail, but his clothes were ironed neatly and his shoes were polished well. Recalling the grubby sneakers in which he'd appeared on his first day was still a bit of a popular in-joke around the office, even a year later.

New sat down at his desk in front of mine, but almost immediately stood up again. He walked around to Off's and started searching through the papers there. I got up, hands warm in my pockets, and headed after him. He swept through Off's things roughly, a crease slowly appearing between his brows. I stood by and felt my tongue pulsing. How many times had I told him not to just dig through our stuff like that? He puffed some air out of his nose and straightened up. He set his eyes on my desk.

"Don't you d--." Too late. (Too dead.) New lifted my books and shook out the notes stuck in between, turning each of them over with decreasing care. I watched as he pushed my old lunch containers and coffee cups into the corner behind my computer and scooped up every loose paper he could collect in his fists. Just when I thought I might have to break out one of the Vihokratana family's ancestral curses, he finally backed away and marched off for the elevators with his ears burning red.

"How many times do I have to tell them..." I heard him growl under his breath. No-one answered.

But my stomach.

My stomach pulled in answer. My stomach pulled me towards him.

"Fuck," we said to ourselves.

~~~~

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