That’s How the Cookie Crumbles (Part 2)

Note: This is part 2. Here’s part 1.

What the fuck do I do now? Wait. Who was that anyway? Who replaced the old editor? He never mentioned he had a daughter. Wasn’t even sure if he was married. Had to find out to be sure.

I put on my pants and my trench coat. Made my way to the Chronicle’s office a few blocks away. Man, traffic’s heavy today. Too many sirens. This is noisier than usual. I mean, the streets usually sound like a motherfucking urban war zone on any given Tuesday, but this is just ridiculous. I hope these earphones work.

Went up a few flights of stairs towards the 15th floor. Stupid broken elevator.
I knocked on the door that was marked ‘EDITOR-IN-CHIEF’. No name on it. Who the Hell is this behind the door? I knocked. No reply. I knocked again. Still no reply. I knocked once more, this time, with my head.
A young woman disturbed my peace. “Excuse me? What are you doing?”
“Banging my damn head on this door, what do you think I’m doing? What the Hell do you want?!”
“That’s my office.”
Oh shit.

to be continued

One Response to “That’s How the Cookie Crumbles (Part 2)”

  1. […] The Ghostwriter's Blog Just another weblog « That’s How the Cookie Crumbles (Part 2) […]

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