A Writer's Wonderland [PDF] - University of Portsmouth

honourable man, and Linda knew it. To fire Linda would mean getting rid of the greatest asset
Archer’s Accounting had. Already in the three months of her working there she’d handled two
of the largest accounts the company had ever seen and had generated fourteen per cent of the
firms profit singlehandedly. Linda was not the sort of employee you let slip through your hands
for the sake of a few swear words.
‘I am willing,’ said Mr Archer, ‘to ignore this report on the grounds that you provide an
alternative by tomorrow morning. Is that clear?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘You’re lucky I didn’t fire you. You can go now.’
‘Yes sir.’ Linda stood up and left.
***
Linda poured the coffee into the mug and had a sip. She stood leaning on the kitchen counter
thinking about her day and how she was going to write another department report by tomorrow
morning. With a sigh, she put the coffee mug down and went to the bedroom. Once there, she
ripped off her tailored suit and shirt and looked at herself in the mirror. After a couple of
minutes evaluating the progress of her failing diet she went to the wardrobe and selected
another outfit; a cheap pinstriped short sleeved shirt, a plain black skirt which rested just on the
knee, skin coloured tights and plain white pumps. She put on an apron, tying the strings behind
her back and was ready. She went down into the basement, flicked the lights on and
surveyed her kingdom. Stretched before her was a mock semblance of a cosy diner. She had
everything from the rotating barstools to the signs for the male and female toilets. She looked at
the old coffee percolator and the rusty Route 66 sign hanging on the wall; the high backed red
fake leather booths, the cash register, the napkin dispensers, the movie posters, the salt and
pepper shakers and the sundae making station. It was amazing what you can find at junk yards
and in second hand shops. Finally, she glanced at the several people sat waiting for her to take
their order.
‘Alright now darlins’, I’m here. I’ll get round to all of you, don’t you worry now!’ Linda’s
voice was thick with a heavy Southern accent which sounded perfectly at home within the walls
of the fake diner.
She went over to the coffee maker and pulled out the pot.
‘Now who’s for decaf?’ she beamed as she looked around the room.
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