The queen holds centre stage.

I watch her go on and on about the deal that she had just cracked. Her faithful coterie hangs on to her every word. She speaks as if she had done all the actual work by herself. Not one mention of the hours that I had put it. Right from customer research to lead generation to proposal building, I had done it all. Sure, she did the final negotiation. She was a wily that way. Knew exactly when to go in for the kill. I’ll give her that. But did she at least call it a team effort? No. It was all “I… me… myself.”  

“Go grow a pair and take it up with HR,” was her taunt when I questioned her about taking my name off the Scope document. She was a callous unscrupulous shameless bitch. Working with her was making as much sense as standing under a widowmaker. Unless I got out of there I would be destroyed. She would see to it.

I smile at her and nod. But the rage inside me simmers. The plan begins to take seed.  


photo from Antenna at Unsplash

Written for FOWC (wily), Your Daily Word Prompt (actual), The Daily Spur (pair), Ragtag Daily Prompt (widowmaker), MMA Storytime’s Word of the Day (faithful) and Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #120

2 thoughts on “The simmering

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