Post by Mistress Rell on Jul 22, 2008 17:08:16 GMT -5
I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I want to know what you think of this opening page for a set of short stories. A serial if you perfer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One; Terror Tower
Looking back, I still don’t know why I answered their ad in the paper. I didn’t spend four years at Queens University to become a Public Liaison officer for any I.T. company, let alone for one of the more notorious. My parents sure as hell didn’t like the idea, although I wasn’t too clear on whether it was the fact I was moving to Ottawa or working for Terin Global they were upset about. Terin Tower, or Terror Tower as it was somewhat affectionately called in the business world, had a reputation for dealing with some of the more unscrupulous people of the world. You know the kind, the megalomaniacs who, after succeeding in controlling their own small country, decided they wanted a bigger chunk of the world. But then, if my parents knew what lived above the 20th floor in the main tower, I doubt very much the moral degradation of our clients would be their list of things to worry about.
I should have suspected something was odd after my initial conversation on the phone. How often do you speak with the company Presidents’ secretary? I still remember her bored disembodied voice on the other end. I figured I didn’t have a chance in hell.
“Terin Tower, How may I help you?”
I could picture a mature grey-haired woman sitting behind her huge oak desk, glasses part way won the bridge of her nose, hair pulled back into a tight bun.
“Yes, I’m calling about a job interview. I sent in
my resume several weeks ago and was wondering of your company had received it?”
“Name?”
“Martin. Martin Cunningham”
Then came that log awkward silence. I could feel my heart beating faster as the seconds ticked by. Not many people fresh out of university get jobs this lucrative. I had visions of her glancing over my pathetic one page resume and filing it in the nearest trash can.
“Yup,” her voice was more upbeat than I expected. “You’ll do. Come in tomorrow morning around eleven. When you enter the lobby, take the freight elevator up to the 29th floor.
“The freight elevator?”
“Yeah, you’ll find it at the end of the corridor to the right of the reception desk. Between the custodial and furnace rooms.”
I never should have went.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One; Terror Tower
Looking back, I still don’t know why I answered their ad in the paper. I didn’t spend four years at Queens University to become a Public Liaison officer for any I.T. company, let alone for one of the more notorious. My parents sure as hell didn’t like the idea, although I wasn’t too clear on whether it was the fact I was moving to Ottawa or working for Terin Global they were upset about. Terin Tower, or Terror Tower as it was somewhat affectionately called in the business world, had a reputation for dealing with some of the more unscrupulous people of the world. You know the kind, the megalomaniacs who, after succeeding in controlling their own small country, decided they wanted a bigger chunk of the world. But then, if my parents knew what lived above the 20th floor in the main tower, I doubt very much the moral degradation of our clients would be their list of things to worry about.
I should have suspected something was odd after my initial conversation on the phone. How often do you speak with the company Presidents’ secretary? I still remember her bored disembodied voice on the other end. I figured I didn’t have a chance in hell.
“Terin Tower, How may I help you?”
I could picture a mature grey-haired woman sitting behind her huge oak desk, glasses part way won the bridge of her nose, hair pulled back into a tight bun.
“Yes, I’m calling about a job interview. I sent in
my resume several weeks ago and was wondering of your company had received it?”
“Name?”
“Martin. Martin Cunningham”
Then came that log awkward silence. I could feel my heart beating faster as the seconds ticked by. Not many people fresh out of university get jobs this lucrative. I had visions of her glancing over my pathetic one page resume and filing it in the nearest trash can.
“Yup,” her voice was more upbeat than I expected. “You’ll do. Come in tomorrow morning around eleven. When you enter the lobby, take the freight elevator up to the 29th floor.
“The freight elevator?”
“Yeah, you’ll find it at the end of the corridor to the right of the reception desk. Between the custodial and furnace rooms.”
I never should have went.