Chapter 41

Roger arose from his desk and walked down the hallway to the left.  He rounded the corner and entered the smallish kitchenette area reserved for beverage, snack and food preparation.  For to maintain his calm poise and quench his parched-tongue thirst, Roger snatched from the recess of the refrigerator a carton of strawberry lemonade.  A moment later, he had filled a cup with the citric drink.

Sharon walked in and began to pour herself a cup of the no longer fresh, below average office coffee.  Roger turned his body to face her and stared, motionless and silent.  He uttered not a word.  He placed his cup on the counter and crouched down into a crabwalk position.

All the while, Sharon pretended with bitter determination that she hadn't noticed Roger standing, now crouching, some four feet away.  It would be silly for anyone to actually believe that she had not seen him.

Abandoning the ruse she had seamlessly assembled, Sharon scowled and growled, "Roger, what the fuck are you doing?"

Roger was surprised to hear her speak.  He was aware that she had been ignoring him and did not expect her to crack with such little provocation.  He cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

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