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Roughdraft3 - James Montgomery Creative Writing Final I...

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James Montgomery Creative Writing Final I Love You, Mom “Fuck’s up?!” A voice penetrates the serenity of the cubicle. Startled, Donovan J. Frettle quickly looks to the source with a gasp, shocked that someone would be so rude, especially to an employee whose been there as long as he. Surely in a business place people treat each other with respect! Frettle, a man of roughly forty with slightly overweight and unat- tractive features, normally kept to himself while at his workplace, unconcerned with of- fice life and social gossip. His only true concern was that for his mother, whom he lived with happily. Back at the office, he begins to take in who confronted him and realizes that his own face is still marked with surprise and quickly resolves into a smile and a cardboard greeting that quivers with uncertainty. “Uhm, hello sir how are you?” “Oh! I’m good good, real good! How bout you are you good?” “Yes, uhm, I suppose I’m good although you surprised me a bit there!” “Oh my b son, listen you got any coffee? I think I might needa sober up a bit before I get to muh interveiew, you know what I’m sayin?” he replies laughingly with the fine tuned slur of a well trained drinker. “Actually no I don’t know what you’re saying, maybe. I do have some coffee, if that’s what you asked?” says Donovan with further uncertainty as he points to a mug on his desk and asks curiously, “Are you … drunk?” “Naaawww man, yerr drunk!” he blurts while eyeing the coffee dreamily.
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Donovan notices the man’s gaze and leans forward casually to push it out of reach. Despite his attempt to subtly save his drink, drunk man hobbles towards the cof- fee to try and take it anyway. Donovan hurries to push the coffee faster, but the man is just too fast. As is by instinct, Donovan grabs the coffee in response and holds it out away from the drunk man, using his own body to protect it from being grabbed. “Gimmmeeeeee!” “No, I need it!” “Gahh!” “Urgghhh!” They struggle like children over a toy. The drunk man is almost laying on top of Donovan with his hands stretched just inches short of where the coffee is, while Donovan is going red in the face trying desperately to breathe and push the man off him, all while balancing it. “You boys havin fun?” asks a fellow employee and walks away smiling to herself, ignoring the explanations they call after her while hastily separating themselves. Embarrassed, Donovan puts the coffee down and tries to fix up his ruffled attire. Unfazed, the drunk man grabs the coffee and with a victorious smile drinks it sloppily before protest can be voiced. Defeated and confused, Donovan takes the chance to take in who he is even with. The man is garbed in slacks and a button down shirt with a tie, but so hastily put together that it seemed he barely remembered to put clothes on at all. He most likely hadn’t shaved for a few days, because stubble was breaking into actual facial hair and he had the smell of liquor masked with soap. Fur- thermore, despite his slang-speak, this man was white. Casper white. He had no busi-
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