The Co-Worker's Desk
He sat at the desk and pulled out the top drawer to his right. Pens, pencils, a stapler and paper clips, a lifetime, twenty-four years, a fellow employee, a friend. He’d been asked to perform this task because he and Renny Diaz, Renaldo A, had been friends. Had been. The thought seemed to set upon the desk top, like a coffee stain that couldn’t be wiped away. Just last week, Renny was sitting in this very spot, this chair, smiling broadly when Carla talked about her granddaughter. That same night Renny had a massive heart attack. Fifty-eight is too young to die. “I see you’ve been given the task.” A voice spoke from behind him. He knew it was Carla. “I kinda offered.” “You guys were close… at least here at the office.” He shrugged. Carla pulled out her chair and sat down at her desk. As was her habit, she logged onto her computer before doing anything else. There was a coffee pot just outside the cube. ...