White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* Circulation: 196,373,079 Issue: 910 | 7th day of Hiding, Y22
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Forever And A Day


by iamnotaaron

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There is a dreadful silence in the office. Not that it's any different from the usual quiet, but it's a silence that is so thick with tension, you could slice it a million ways with a blunt blade.

     Everywhere, office workers keep their heads lowered, and their voices even lower. No one dares make more than a peep, unless they want to be called into Zach’s room.

     “Zach’s room is bad news,” so the saying goes. “Never go in there unless you absolutely need to.”

     Sitting his large swivel chair, Zach – a portly shadow-coloured Bruce with large round glasses perched at the end of his nose – looks out onto the factory floor.

     This is his sole pride and joy: ZapZap Foods. Across the sprawling room, factory machines rhythmically hiss and ping, as food products get produced on a conveyor belt. Zach has built his massive fortune on the idea that he could help food stores across Neopia create their wares, so they can restock their shelves faster.

     “Hey, everyone’s got to eat right? I’s just ensuring all of Neopia gets to eat what they want, when they want,” as he used to tell people.

     In a corner, a large dispenser is squirting golden lashes of syrup onto fig muffins bound for Altador. Elsewhere, a jet of flames sets a plate of Fire Rice alit – just the way the Moltarans like it.

     “Sorry mister big boss Zach sir,” a timid voice peeps up from behind him. He liked that he gave himself a powerful-sounding title, but the interruption to his daydream took Zach by surprise. A tiny pink Aisha holds up his coffee, and a stack of papers.

     “WHAT IS IT STACY?!” he bellows, in a decibel-breaking roar. Stacy quakes, rooted to the ground, unsure of how to respond. Finally, she musters words up. “Your coffee, mister big boss sir.”

     She carefully places the coffee on his coaster-like clockwork and hands Zach the pile of papers. “These arrived in the mail a few minutes ago, mister big boss sir. Would you lik-” Stacy pauses mid-sentence as Zach begins beckoning her over with an exasperated wave.

     “Hand them over,” he barks.

     Just then, Zach’s over-enthusiastically waving hands catches the rim of his coffee mug. A slow dread creeps onto both Stacy and his face, as they watch the mug tip over. The motion is fast, but the horror of the spillage causes things to feel like they are moving in slow motion. A torrent of brown liquid floods across the mahogany table, staining every white paper surface it pools onto. Finally, the growing pool of hot coffee makes a dramatic finish in the middle of Zach’s new white shirt.

     For a moment, no one speaks. A few Kacheeks are standing outside Zach’s office, feeling uneasy for Stacy. Still in her spot, Stacy looks on in fright, unable to make any sound other than a quivering “oh”.

     Zach’s face turns dark – a tough feat for a shadow-coloured Bruce – and he calmly removes his glasses to wipe away the stray coffee stains on his lens. He looks at Stacy and an unflinching stare.

     “Go home Stacy,” he says. Immediately, she begins to back away, and turns to the door. As she’s about to sit at her desk, Zach continues.

     “Go home Stacy, don’t come back.”

     A low but audible gasp is heard through the room.

     Obediently, Stacy packs her potted plant, a photograph of her mother and her on vacation at Mystery Island, and quietly leaves the building.

     -----

     A balmy afternoon greets Zach as he steps out of the office for a breath of fresh air. Neopia has been enjoying great weather for the last two weeks, but that’s never impressed Zach. Nothing really impresses Zach. To him, the weather is always too bright, too wet, too cloudy, or too cold.

     He squints at the sun, muttering his disapproval at the sun, and begins walking to the park. His mind is still on his once-new, now-stained shirt, and the big splotch of brown on his shirt makes it hard for passers-by to not look or even giggle.

     “I’ll have to hire a new secretary,” he laments. He doesn’t like doing interviews, because he doesn’t like meeting new faces in general. Yet, he insists on interviewing his staff, because he has a level of perfection that rarely wanes.

     Lost in thought, he doesn’t register the distant sound of a bell. Shuffling down the path, Zach’s vision is on the lake when he feels a sharp jolt of pain.

     “OWWW,” he lets out a loud yelp, and whips around. A baby Jubjub looks up at him, with her big eyes glazed over with fear at the glowering Bruce staring back at her.

     “You rode right into my leg!” Zach yells, unsure if the baby understands his words. “What gives?”

     The Jubjub’s once-dry eyes begin to well up, as she crescendos into loud cries. Unbothered, Zach scoffs and limps off.

     “Just my luck to get a rotten day,” he mutters to himself, as he tries to limp across the crosswalk. He brushes past an elderly Acara, who drops her bag of groceries.

     “Oh, my fruits”, she says, calling out to Zach. “Sir...sir...” But the elderly Acara was too late, Zach had already limped off.

     Before he returns to his office, Zach spots a coffee shop at the end of the block. “Might as well,” he thinks aloud. “Stacy’s not around to get my coffee.”

     The coffee shop is a quaint nook, with pastel walls and a low ceiling. Low music play in the background, serenading patrons with comforting tunes as they sit and read, or chat with their friend. In the glass display sit neat rows of cakes and pastries, each one looking more delicious than the last. There’s strawberry shortcake, with pristine white icing dotted by shiny and red strawberries that resemble flowering pine trees; a stack of brownies beckoning to onlookers, its luscious chocolate crumbs holding the promise of a deliciously good time.

     It’s Zach’s turn at the register. He places his order – a large caramel iced coffee with extra caramel, and an acnefruit scone – and gives the Mynci behind the counter some cash.

     “One moment sir,” he says, rifling through the register for the right amount of change. He counts the coins; realises he’s miscounted the first time and tries to correct the amount. In the process, he drops more coins and has to begin recounting.

     “Hurry up!” Zach glares at him. “I don’t have all day!”

     “S-s-sorry sir,” the Mynci replies timidly. He hands Zach the change, and as Zach walks out the door, he swings back and says, “That was unacceptable. Tell your manager to expect a complaint soon!” He huffs off, leaving the stunned Mynci behind the register.

     -----

     It’s been a long day, and all Zach wants to do when he gets home is to kick off his shoes and climb into bed. Perhaps it’s a combination of the adrenaline mixed with anger, but Zach wasn’t feeling like himself that night. His head was spinning, and he could barely stay upright without needing to grab hold of something to steady himself.

     After fixing up a quick dinner of leftover spring rolls he swiped from a shipment bound for Shenkuu, he makes it to his bed.

     The next morning, Zach’s sleep is abruptly cut short by the blaring of his alarm. He looks over and reads the clock. Its luminous green numbers glare back at his sleepy face: 2:09 PM. Zach overslept.

     “Well, I’m the boss,” he reasons. “I can go in whenever I want to. But I should get into work now, just to make sure no one is taking too long of a break.”

     Reluctantly he pulls himself from the warmth and cosiness of restful slumber, and hurries about getting ready for work.

     He begins his workday with a routine inspection of the factory, and everything seems to be in order. As he returns to his office to start on the rest of his work, he’s surprised to see Stacy standing there with a mug of coffee and a stack of papers.

     “Didn’t I send her off yesterday,” he wonders, shooting a perturbed look at Stacy, who keeps her head lowered.

     “Sorry mister big boss Zach sir,” Stacy pipes up. “Your coffee, mister big boss sir.”

     As if replicating her actions from yesterday, Stacy places the coffee on his coaster again and hands Zach the pile of documents she has in her hands. On Zach’s part, he’s unsure if Stacy’s aware she doesn’t work for him anymore.

     “These arrived in the mail a few minutes ago, mister big boss sir. Would yo-” Stacy stops mid-sentence as Zach reaches for the documents, still wearing a perplexed look on his face.

     Right on cue, Zach’s hand reaches out and knocks over the coffee mug, which makes yet another gushing flood that lands squarely on Zach’s white shirt.

     Stacy is paralysed with fear, as she watches her boss’ face go from confusion to rage. As Zach yells at her, she retreats to her desk in tears, and begins to pack her belongings.

     Zach is in a state of confusion. “I just did this yesterday!” his mind yells in bewilderment, as he tries to gain his nerves with a walk at the park. “What is happening?!”

     Just then, a sharp pain shoots up his leg.

     “OWWW!” Zach yelps, clutching his knee and hopping on one foot. He turns around angrily to find a Jubjub staring back up at him.

     “You rode right into my leg yesterday, and you’re doing it again!” Zach yells, as a dreadful feeling creeps into his head. “Where’s your mother?”

     The Jubjub begins to wail, but Zach cannot hear her crying. His mind is racing, as he begins to wonder if he was dreaming it up. “Can two days repeat in identical fashion?” he wonders, before batting that thought away. It just didn’t make sense.

     Sure enough, as he was lost in thought, he brushed past an elderly Acara wearing the same blue shawl. Her grocery bag breaks as various fruits tumble onto the road.

     This was happening. Zach was having the same day, twice!

     His pace quickens to the end of the block, as his heartbeat increases. “This has to be a joke, right?” He tries to assure himself. “Only one way to test it.”

     He arrives at the same coffee shop, and makes the same order. The Mynci nods, collects Zach’s money, and begins counting the change. As he hands over the change, Zach lets out a sign of relief. The Mynci from yesterday miscounted the change and dropped a few coins, but today’s change seemed to be the right amount.

     “Wait, hang on a minute,” the Mynci says, stopping just shy of handing Zach the change. “I think I’ve miscounted you change sir.”

     Desperation draws over Zach’s face. “IT’S FINE! JUST GIVE ME THE CHANGE!” he yells with hurry. But the Mynci is determined to give him the right amount back. Then, as if entirely scripted, several gold coins drop onto the floor.

     Tink....tink...tink...

     Zach’s face turns a pale shade of grey, as the realisation sets into his head: this is the same day as the day before. Time is replaying itself.

To be continued…

 
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