mortmain

{Part Two}
"Follow me, Skidd," Blather mumbled, still chewing, raining cake from the corners of his mouth, "follow me, man!"

Skidd could barely keep up with the departing Blather, who, despite his tremendous size, could move at quite a clip. It took a second for Skidd's brain to engage his feet and set the creaking machinery of his narrow frame in motion. Blather's sonorous voice could be heard pontificating flabbily as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view. All Skidd could make out of the very one-sided conversation was the repetition of his name, and what he thought was the phrase "... not happy at all"

His briefcase slapped against his thigh has Skidd slipped and slid around the corner in hot pursuit of his boss who was already shrinking to a tiny black pinstriped point in the gloom of the corridor. The hammering of the typing pool had faded into into a heartbeat-like thud deep in Skidd's ears and his breath was burning in his chest, and he could taste metal.

Blather drew further and further away. Skidd loped along past closed doors which bled little trickles of insipid light into the otherwise dark corridor. His mind was racing. What could Blather want with him? Had he done anything to draw the attention of the management? He knew that it could prove fatal.

{To Be Continued...}