Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 11-05-2013

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John listened with the others, tense, for Adrienne’s arrival at the office every morning – listened closely to what she was humming. Their lives would go well that week if it was anything rock or blues or jazz or country; if, however, she sat down in her office with a Starbuck’s latte and a one-person rendition of “O,Fortuna” from the Carmina Burana, well … “Always know where the closest exit is,” Barbara had told him in a hushed and frightened tone that first day.

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