The Right to Be Forgotten: Sixty
“I’m not going.” I flop over on the bed.
The door slams and I bury my head. I’ve had hangovers that felt better than this.
Friday, Senator X all but declared war on his office. I was in beige. Again. That was how I received the brunt of his attacks.
His legislation had failed. It was to be his legacy to his home state. The vote wasn’t even close. Never mind I wasn’t even employed when the bill was written. Never mind it was a poorly worded, inane piece of legislation. Senator X needed someone to pay for his failure. The odds were not in my favor.
He called me a few names that must be native to his home state, because I’d not had the pleasure to hear them until Friday. He actually fired me. Which was an exquisite relief.
Before I made it back home, though, Birch had called with the ‘good’ news that I was to report back to work on Monday morning. Victoriana. She had to be behind the Senator’s change of heart, assuming he has a heart. That’s why I am in bed. I don’t want to know what promises she made on my behalf. I don’t care to step back into the world that spat me out with such invective.
E’s voice follows a sharp rap on my door: “Thoroughly unbecoming.” She rips the bedding to the floor. I flip to my back and prepare to yell at her until she goes away. But she holds a clear clothing bag with a black suit inside.
“Your shoes are in your new purse. Victoriana shared your work with Senator X, and he loves it. Now that you are on his radar, we may as well make good use of you.”
I open my eyes but do not otherwise move.
“You’ll have plenty of time to hate me in years to come. Today, you must get off that mattress, clean up, and go do your job.” She hangs the clothing bag and leaves.
I do as she says. What choice do I have? Besides, I’ll kill in that suit.