More Disturbing Thoughts

Betty rushed back to the building, entered, passed Felicita who was speaking with one of the Hollywood men, and went quickly to her office. The wall clock showed it was 2:24 pm. Her lunch break had ended a while ago. There were papers on her desk that needed reading, reports that needed reviewing, agendas and addendums to agendas that needed revising. But Betty Ragan didn't touch a one, she just sat in her plushy chair and shook. It was instantaneous, uncontrollable, and utterly total. If anyone had entered just then they would've figured she was having an epileptic attack. But no one did. She just shook, every muscle and every nerve.

When it finally stopped she lapsed into her chair. ~~this can't be happening~~ she thought. ~~it's Friday afternoon, the end of a five-day work week, only the receptionist swears I wasn't working. that whacko from New York, it all started when I bumped into her.~~ Betty's mind whirled as the last two days passed before her eyes. Visions of structure and routine shattered by amnesiacs and actors. ~~I'm not going crazy, I'm not!~~ But still she had doubts. Why, for example, could she not remember renting the grey sedan or even recall what had happened to her own car?

~~intersect points, alternate realities, cosmic rhythms.~~ She shook her head and stared hard at the first report on her desk: Relative- Use Interferometer Impacts upon Emission Nebula Data Collection. ~~oh Charlie, always the encyclopedist!~~ She opened the report hoping the familiarity of subject matter would calm her frayed nerves. She knew that Mr. Charles Herschel was a professional at bad, tedious and boring writing, she hoped that that would help too. But it didn't. Betty just couldn't dismiss the bizarre experiences of yesterday. She couldn't dismiss the fact that it all could've been an hallucination. She couldn't dismiss the possibility that she was suffering a nervous breakdown.

1. and then Charlie walked in...
2. then her boss walked in...
3. then the phone rang...

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