FIRE QUEEN, DARK LADY
by M. C. A. Hogarth
Copyright 2011 M.C.A. Hogarth
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She didn’t even look up when I leaned on the edge of her cubicle. Her manager, Slow Joe—I named him for his accent, which puts the thick in molasses--told me to knock before saying anything: seeing the furrowed brow and the intensity of the eyelock she had on that computer screen, I could see why. I knocked on the fabric wall, just below the placard that read 'Nicola Towers.'
"Oh!" She started, turned in her chair. Brass-bright curls fell over the shoulder of her dark business suit. "Helen?"