Lunchtime Stories

Here are some messages I have sent to my boss over the years. Hope you enjoy them.

We shall be taking on a quest. This quest shall require the exodus from company property during the coming time of lunch. On this particular adventure, we shall seek nourishment for our bodies in the form of animal flesh and vegetables.

WeI shall be undertaking a recently acquired task of food getting; this task shall henceforth be referred to simply as the quest. During our quest, we shall be required to depart the current premises while facing snowfall, wind, and the unforgiving cold as it sweeps thru our bones. Such an adventure will require use of a great steel steed to quicken our quest. In case our steed is injured or other steeds prevent our timely return, we shall ask for your forgiveness in such matters.

The winds have whispered their breath to my ears. My stories have found favor upon another’s eyes. As any bard would recant a story, it is mearly to see the eyes gazing upon himself as their minds wandered to another place of mysticism.

A whisper blows across the concrete tundra. The breath speaks so faint it could almost be a memory. “Remember the quest”, as it beckons to a band of few. Much time has passed since the previous expedition in search for nourishment. The noble steed in laying in wait as we hungry few are preparing for the upcoming journey. We hold a high morale towards the outcome of this scavenging expedition. We shall not fail, we must not fail, but in case we meet fate’s demise on our quest, we may be late from lunch.

Our pilgrimage has paid itself handsomely in royalties. My noble steed has birthed another. Smaller, more nimble, and silent, this new breed of personal transport can reap great rewards for those with the mindset to see the benefits.

Black Segway in trunk

Like the eye of a storm, a moment of peace ensues from the passage of time. The veil of drudgery lifts to release a calm as our eyes gaze towards the weekend. The closest rival of this emotion would be the body heat an infant feels as it nuzzles into the mother’s bosom; a moment so pure which allows all of existence to disappear, for both mother and child, as they embrace the other’s form. A normal weekend this is not, but one which allows our complacency of life to be fulfilled with an extra day to fulfill some of those mundane tasks; you know those tasks which have been sitting in the back of your mind day after day with no drive to actually complete them. Always using excuses to justify to yourself and anyone ,which happens upon earshot of your ramblings about priorities and time management. Monday should be fun.

Windswept plains carry the burden of history as those chosen few dredge across its shrugged shoulders. In the distance, a beacon hovers above the barren land offering sustenance to all wary travelers willing to face their odds against nature’s cruel gifts. We are heading out for lunch

Another hot august night is coming to a close. The suns rays pass behind the mountainous curtain leaving to push the darkness across the land’s face. The shimmering heat rising from the ground fades away. The pets are slowly separating themselves from the floors and furniture in exchange for some playfulness outside. They enjoy the coolness nighttime brings. I can only imagine for them the oppression the daily heat brings to their lives; their need to become statues and soak into their surroundings.

As the sun walks across the sky and the clouds dance in his aura. The shadows retreat as our time grows near. An idea has taken hold in my mind. Unshakable as it is, plans are being laid to ensure a successful endeavor. We are heading to lunch.

A darkness is cast across the lands as the cold claws against the weary traveller’s boots. The moon barely illuminates a dark figure trekking across the hillside. Absolute silence is like a vacuum; pulling and amplifying every small sound out into the open. The sound of his breath hitting the cold air and twigs cracking like bones under-foot is all to be heard in the distance. As the traveler visits the lonely land step by step, he relives the choices which have led to this moment. His mind split between the monotony of his foot placement and the memories playing back like an old gramophone; some minuet details have been lost to time and perception, but the story remains intact.
Great to have you back. I will be delayed in the morning. I am going to get breakfast and will use pto to cover.

We find ourselves once again in the company of some members of the machinist guild. The constant whistling of metal turning rings in the background as our adventurers prepare themselves for the upcoming journey. Their eyes gaze upon the mountainous ranges ahead of them. The winds have swept away the smoke and clouds from the mountain tops to show the paths taken by many before. Filled with confidence and courage the guild members ready themselves physically and mentally for the upcoming task. Presuming an uneventful journey but prepared for trouble, the two members have high spirits. A whisper on doubt falls from the lips of a member; with such favourable weather maybe it would be better suited for leisure pastimes instead of returning to the guild. The thought marinades across the guild as the days grow colder. These days may be the last to be seen as life is too short and often misspent toiling for the benefit of others. We are going to lunch.

The day heralds in a new quest. A goal easily achieved for the forgotten few remaining looms over a members head. We are heading out for lunch

Today a guild member has a different task to accomplish; an errand of sorts to correct a folly which will be leveraged at an unknown point in the future by a spouse. A folly which will undoubtedly be used for the rest of the members life. A small thing it actually is in the eye of a sane person, but women and logic are two different things altogether. I am heading out for lunch and possibly be late returning

Steam rises up from the blackened ground as the crisp chill of winters breath bites at the skin. Another passing of the day with little thought towards the misused moments of our lives. Pondering only the nearby moments to come and awaiting eagerly the rewards for such a goal. Fate has one again show itself to our headstrong adventurers, and they eagerly accept the quest. We are going to lunch.

A calmness can be felt across the guild’s hallways. A quiet often masked by the echoing shrieks of metal skin being ripped away from casting bodies. Many of the guild’s members are away this day, and the weary flooring is grateful to not be trampled upon. Even as a peacefulness surrounds the guild, the members are reluctant to embrace the moment of blissful solitude; they know all-to-well how quickly a moment can turn into something else. With an uncertainty looming in the minds of the few members which arrived today, they turn their thoughts towards simpler satisfactions guaranteed to being happiness to their weathered souls. We are leaving for lunch.

Another sun awakens the day as our adventures rise with the shadows. An uneventful day is expected as the other guild members have returned from their quests. The roar of machinery can be heard across the guild as the members march across the floor, like ants finding crumbs. An idea possesses a member. unshakable and unrelenting, this new quest must be completed. I am going to breakfast with the wife.

Today started just as any other day: the morning trumpets to awaken the members from peaceful slumber, small wisps of breath floating from the roosters’ mouths, and the icy sheen of light reflecting across windshields. Today may have started common enough, but the day’s challenges are not. A member mulls over the pile of tasks and timing needed today to overcome the myriad of issues. I will be leaving for lunch.

Gentle tapping of the rain can be heard in the stillness of the morning rays. Memories of running through dew soaked grass fill the minds of non natives as water drops roll down. A gentle wetness appropriate for our beloved desert graces us today. We are going to lunch.

Looking with optimistic eyes, our adventurers find themselves laboring at their guild. The suns rays flow across the land with a gentle touch. Just enough to push back the cold with a measly cloud in the sky. Eager for a new adventure, our members begin making plans for an escape. A new steed impatiently awaits to carry the war party to their next destination. We will be heading to lunch and the possibility of our return has never been 100%

Blue skies and marshmallow clouds glide overhead. A gentle breeze frolics about without any hint of poor weather. The guild members are at it again banging their tools and muttering repressed emotions to their machines. The last day in the stable before they focus their thought on personal goals. A looming sense of dread is always an accompaniment in their lives as time slips past while so many goals go unfulfilled. Robert and I are heading out for lunch… our return… only time can tell.

Once again we find our adventurers preparing for their next adventure. Many times the sun has shadowed the land since their previous embarkation. We are leaving for lunch.

A quarter of the earth’s cycle has passed since our last adventure. Each day seems a little lesser than their predecessors. Like the helpless prey of a snake slowly enveloped by the jaws of their captor, the land will be soon be devoured by an icy skin. Each day is a push and pull between the frost and the warmth as the sun and moon battle across the sky. We are leaving at lunch.

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