You sit in your gray office cubicle staring at the computer screen, fighting back a headache. You sip your coffee, its cold, yesterday’s vintage. You stare at the clock incredulously. How is it only 10:30? Suddenly you feel the little joy, happiness, and color in the space vanish as your boss leans into the doorway. His soulless, beady eyes scan your workspace for ideas to steal, work to take credit for, and ways to make you into a scapegoat for his failings. He begins to drone in a monotonous, self-aggrandizing way as he informs you of the afternoon meeting and pontificates about the thousand-and-one ways you have failed to meet expectations, all while knowing less about your job than the average turnip. Behind your boss’ lumpen head you see a lone ray of happiness, Cyra walk into view. She stops at the water cooler about 10 feet away smiling and waving at you. She’s dressed smartly in her hijab, bra, panties, pantyhose, high heels, tight satin button-down shirt, and high waisted pencil skirt.
Cyra tries to cheer you up by pulling a silly face and pantomiming the boss behind his back, shaking her forearm up and down in the jerking off gesture as you endure the boss’ monologue. Then she pretends to have lost control of her arm, sinking to her knees in a mock struggle as her arm nears her mouth. She makes a shocked expression before succumbing and miming a blowjob. Suddenly the boss turns around to depart and spots her kneeling on the floor and shoots her a quizzical look. She instantly assumes a more innocent posture as she lies, “Oh! How clumsy of me! I dropped my contact lens and was looking for it. But, I heard that the vice-president was looking for you boss. Something about appreciation of your hard work.”