Not one of four

I keep thinking about the order.

Twelve of us in that room. GM Oh read four names out loud and mine was not one of them. I know because I counted. ~~I shouldn't have counted.~~ I counted. Se-ra's slate-blue lanyard caught the lobby light and I watched it because I couldn't watch anything else. In July she walked sealed envelopes back to the anteroom for me. I said thank you. I meant it then.

The flyer. My own staff-directory photo taped to concrete at eye level. I stood there long enough to memorize the staples. The font is Times New Roman. Who picks Times New Roman for a bounty? The worst part isn't that someone printed it. The worst part is that I look good in it. I don't want to look good in it. I want to look angry or scared or something that matches what my stomach is doing. Instead I look like a woman waiting for a conference room to open.

I asked Im for a private meeting. I won't take it. I just wanted to see if he would say yes. He said yes too fast. That's information. I'm tired and I don't know what kind.

The envelope moved again. Closer to the public book. Whoever is moving it wants it seen. I want to ask GM Oh if he knows. I won't.

The palm throbs under the cover like it's keeping time. Four things in the album. Tomorrow is night shift. I'm glad. The floor is empty at night and I can stop smiling.