balding angrily

He felt the cartilage in his ankle, twisted under the opposite butt cheek, threaten to pop. With a hiss he straightened his legs and came up from beneath the desk where he was checking his cell phone charger. His phone had been acting wonky and the stickers were starting to peel from the hard plastic buttons. He wondered if he could slip out unnoticed and buy another cell phone.

He decided against it.

He stood, looked over his cube walls, turned around, looked at his plant, and sat down in his chair with the faded upholstery with a sigh. He passed the remaining hour in five-minute bits that stretched to busting in which he imagined the blood pumping through his brain catching on a fatty deposit and killing him. Or worse, paralyzing the left side of his face.

When the computer clock hit 4:55pm, he hit the Start-Shut Down button. Without waiting for it to complete its shut down, he walked purposefully to his car, mentally preparing himself for an evening with his parents.