I’m taking a course on Novel Writing. This was written as a bit of homework to explore the use of free indirect discourse. I’m like bloody Jane Austen, I am.
Elliot was preceded into the office by Katie, whose grimace was so vivid it was actually perceptible on the back of her head. She closed the door after him then fiddled awkwardly with the blinds, while he sat himself down in front of the desk. The wall opposite was lined with red, blue, black A4 binders. Most of the clear plastic windows on their spines were empty, but one particularly fat, dog-eared binder labelled with his own name in heavy black ink stood out. Katy dropped into her seat behind the desk.
“I think you know why I’ve asked you in here, Elliot.” Elliot blinked in reply. “A few months back, we had a chat about what would happen if there was another incident. Do you remember that?”
It was hard to forget: it was, by any measure, an all-timer of a bollocking. He’d sat in this same seat, stared at this same manager, and been reprimanded, castigated, criticised, condemned, scolded, chided, and generally been pretty thoroughly told off. At the time it had felt a bit thickly laid-on, but now it appeared the sequel was moving in a different direction.
“Elliot, this time I’m going to try and get through this more calmly, because I don’t think getting angry helps either of us. Now I’m not trying to be rude, but I need to check – You are aware that you can’t steal from your workplace, aren’t you? I mean – you know that’s not allowed?”
A low-flying propeller plane passed nearby, its mosquitoish drone shaking the office. Elliot nodded.
“Alright. In that case, I need you to help me understand – why have you done it again?”
It wasn’t a question with a good answer – it was just what you did. Everybody did it. Who hasn’t nipped into the office cupboard and nicked something? Big deal. Elliot’s face screwed up with the effort of trying to find a boss-friendly way of saying exactly that.
“S’pose… coz everyone does it.”
“Everyone?” There was a real confusion to her question. “Everyone here? Or, do you mean, everyone everyone?”
“Yeah, like, even my mum does it.”
Katie sat back in her chair, her face an equal mix of amusement and horror. “Okay then… and what does your mum steal?”
“All sorts. Pens, loads of them. Whole boxes. Rubbers, staples, sharpeners. Got rulers once. Printer paper. Post-It notes. Highlighters, cups, folders. You know, just the normal stuff.”
“Okay, so your mum works in an office then?”
“Yeah, the company sells insurance or something.”
“Okay, that I can understand, I suppose. And if you’d just ben taking pens and staplers and stuff home, maybe this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But Elliot…”
Katie paused, drawing in a big breath.
“Why would you steal our parachutes?”
Again, the office trembled as another Cessna flew by, and a rapid shadow wiped across the office as it blotted out the sun. Painted on its side in a childish, colourful script: “uFly Sky Diving”.
Elliot shrugged. “Everyone does it.”
Matthew Weldon's Dangerous Thoughts 