Time is Money
It’s hard getting to work on time, but what if time was more flexible?
The station swam with chaos, trains pulling away, commuters yelling, even a dog barking.
Simon raced through it all, sweat clouding his vision.
“S’cuse me, coming through!”
He tried to be courteous as he barrelled out of the station, turning left.
He charged through a set of glass doors gasping, “Sorry…I’m…late!”
Confusion crossed the receptionist’s face.
“Sir… Do you have an appointment?”
His eyes settled on the massive letters behind the desk.
“Ah,” he sighed. “Wrong bank.”
He rolled his sleeve up, fumbling with the device around his wrist.
Blue sparks danced across its surface.
Ignoring the receptionist’s gaze he looked towards the street, “Let’s try
this again.”
He weaved through the crowd, barrelled out of the station, throwing himself to the right.
He burst through a heavy set of wooden doors with one minute to spare.
Wiping sweat from his brow, he approached the desk, “I believe I have
an appointment.”
The reception gestured towards another set of doors.
“Go on through, although almost being late isn’t the best first impression.”
“I know,” Simon replied, pulling his sleeve down. “But this will be worth the time.”
