Friday’s Email

“Dear Saturday,” Friday typed.

“I can’t help but think of you every waking moment of my day. I am but a moon that orbits you, your gravity drawing me into an endless fall. Your eyes are…”

Monday sniffed, intentionally.

“Oh, Captain Monday,” Friday said switching to the other compose tab.

“Have you ordered the blinds?”

Friday put his feet flat on the ground and sat up. “I was just writing an email to Wednesday about the blinds.”

Monday stepped around to see the screen.

“To whom it might concern, I started to order the blinds but realized I did not know what color they should be. Please advise.”

Monday groaned. “I don’t care what color.”

“You want me to choose?” Friday asked, worried the answer would be yes.

“Grey. Or whatever is cheapest.”

“Grey it is,” Friday said, chipperly.

“Friday?” Monday said.

“Yes, sir?”

“Have you taken the measurements yet?”

“No, not yet.”

Monday walked away.

“You’ve got mail!” his computer said to him.

Friday heard Wednesday, across the aisle, sigh deeply.

A new email sat in his inbox with the subject, “Window Measurements”. It was from Thursday.

Friday sat up in his chair until he could see the top of Thursday’s hood in the cubicle adjacent to his. “Thanks,” he whispered.