[942] The world's most normal woman

(Somewhat grown-up themes, not sure how to classify. nothing super graphic but difficult to explain without spoilers). My review

Sarah Tindale was without a hint of exaggeration, the most normal, boring and uninteresting woman in the whole world.

It was Monday, and she woke before her alarm.

For a few moments she remained tucked beneath the covers, enjoying the warmth. The night chill always lingered in the apartment longer than it should. Eventually she yawned, stretched and decided she wasn't getting back to sleep. She scratched her pagatium and clambered out of bed.

The floor was cold.

She crossed the room, rubbing her eyes. A splash of water fixed the problem. By the time she reached the kitchen she was almost awake.

The kettle howled. She poured the hot water over the fragrant leaves in her cup, and then held the warm cup in her arms, letting the heat radiate through the suction cups while she idly eyed the crossword puzzle.

After a cold shower and stale toast, she headed out the door. The bus was late but there was a handsome stranger at the bus stop, so she didn't mind. She fantasized about striking up a conversation with him but the bus arrived before she could pluck up the nerve.

It was windier down town than near her home, and the cold breeze felt refreshing on her carapace. She buzzed into the building and skittered into the office. Her coworkers were swarming some new young intern so she clung to the wall and snuck past.

From her cubicle, she could see the drones assembling some new weapon of cataclysmic destruction. But that was none of her dogswax. Sarah worked in accounting, and she kept her beak out of other people's business.

After zenning out over some spreadsheets, she felt the craving for coffee. She felt frustrated about the lack of clean cups, but only for a minute. After all, she was paid by the hour, and doing the dishes was no worse than accounting. At least the howling was quieter here in the kitchen.

After washing all the dishes in the sink, Sarah grabbed the biggest cup she could find and greedily turned to the coffee machine. The thick, goopy mess dribbled slowly into her cup, andher mind idly drifted to the handsome stranger at the bus stop.

"Hey, how's the coffee?" said a jovial voice behind her. Sarah whipped around, startled and a bit excited. It was Ben, the tall, dark and horrible regional manager. Sarah blushed and said "oh well, you know, it's hotter than usual. I prefer it lukewarm." She lifted up the cup full of faintly wobbling, gelatinous goop, as if he could see its temperature, then felt silly and played it off as carrying the cup up to her mouth and letting the viscous slop slide between her mandibles.

He absentmindedly smoothed his whiskers while grabbing his own cup and serving himself. She wanted to keep talking with the handsome horror but couldn't think of anything to say. "It's cold today" she ventured. "Yeah..." was the response. She couldn't describe why she found him so intriguing, she knew he was married with a whole brood at home, but she could't resist breathing in his dank, putrid musk. She stood around awkwardly till his cup was full. "Well, be seeing ya." he said, and left.

Dejected, she crawled back to her cubicle with her tail between her legs. She sipped the thick, greasy gunk and allowed herself to fantasize about Ben and the stranger from the bus stop. Just thinking about them made her ovipositor tingle.

She had not always been like this. In her youth she had dated many interesting and handsome men, but as she drifted towards middle age, something changed. It had been so easy then, the men would preen and squack and make their advances, and she just had to pick her mate. But now their propositions were less forthcoming, and she found herself more and more trapped in her laviscious fantasies. Was she less attractive? She did a lot of work and kept herself in decent shape, bought the right creams and makeup. Or had she just been more confident then, more carefree and fun?

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, dreaming up an elaborate story where both Ben and the Bus Stop man coincidentally wound up at her house at the same time, with predictably steamy results. At the climax, Ben decapitated Bus Stop Man and then willingly presented his own neck to her.

A translucent, sticky ooze bubbled from her gills before she snapped her head up and frantically looked around - Had anyone seen her? Beatrice, that old bat from HR stood accross the hall and eyed her suspiciously. Sarah's scales flashed to red, signifying shame, for an instant, before she gathered herself and looked defiantly into Beatrice's beedy eyes. "I dare you to say something" she tried to convey with a look and a flourish of her frill. The old crone stood down, looked away and slithered down the hall looking ashamed.

It was quitting time anyway. Sarah stood up on her hind legs to get her coat off the coat rack. She fluttered down to the first floor as the building was emptying. "Should I get takeout tonight?" she idly pondered as she squeezed through the chittering throng.

Suddenly she felt a sharp shock, like static electricity. Her antennae had brushed against someone else's in the crowd. "Excuse me," she muttered absentmindedly before looking up with a loud gasp - It was the stranger from the bus stop!

"Oh hi" he said, his scales flashing orange, for attraction.