The Review Meeting

This fiction post has been inspired by Open-to-All Prompt given at the Project 365 blog this week.

THE REVIEW MEETING {A STORY}

The coffee was getting cold. But Meera didn’t notice it. 

Her eyes were on the conference room. Through the glass walls, she could see the clients sitting around the horseshoe table for the review meeting. She only knew they were from abroad. They wore suits and had a tie on, even in the sultry early May weather that Bangalore usually had.

She saw Aman near the projector screen, his hands pointing at the pie-charts and statistics, the text data that described the progress of the project to-date, and what they would be doing in the next phase.

She wished she had the guts to stand up and talk like that in front of a crowd, but she was nervous. She always had been.

She sighed.

~*|*~

Aman sat down as a smattering of applause broke out. The clients began to discuss something in a foreign language.

Through the glass walls, he could see his team. They had worked hard on this project, and the pressure was on him to keep the clients informed and satisfied. The applause meant he had done that. He loosened his tie, cursing the clients silently for making him wear a suit instead of his usual tee and jeans.

He saw Meera looking eagerly at the conference room, breaking eye contact once she saw him. She had immersed herself in her work again. She was his right hand woman, having the talent to do a lot of things. She had even done the presentation he had just given, and for which applause had rung out. She was soft-spoken, and hard working.

He wished he could be like her, do his work and not be called upon to give presentations. He would be able to concentrate better without that extra pressure. He sighed.

His coffee was getting cold, but he hardly noticed.

(16th August 2014)

Vinay Leo R.

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.