Stop It Sunday

I pay my internet provider too much for all this broken internet.
This facility wasn’t that different from his homeland. The place was isolated and cold and mostly barren. People here had a tendency to regard him with a mix of respect and distance that rang of home. Korbin sat at the oak desk, finishing an initial report of the weeks leading up to opening day. He would send it tomorrow when the first day of operations was complete. Setting it aside in the top right hand drawer, he stood and gathered his black coat from a hook on the wall. He considered it entirely suitable to the weather, but the rare staff member asked if he was cold and offered a spare puffy jacket. Korbin politely declined over the first few days and eventually, they stopped asking.

The hall was softly lit and soundless except for small shuffling from the floors above. He locked the door behind him and headed for the staircase. Passing another official’s room as he went, Korbin was greeted with a closed door as he passed. That same official arrived late yesterday and still didn’t seem adjusted. His plan was to find her before dinner and offer his friendship as means to that end. As head of the project here, he took responsibility for making sure his people were reliable and objective.

She had already taken leave to a nearby town earlier that day. If she continued on this path, there wasn’t much he could do. The group had been carefully selected. Not many were eagerly awaiting a position at a mountaintop military base, so replacements would be scarce. He would have to make this work just the way it was.
[Copyrighted © September 6 2015, J.M. Blute]

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