His smell. That is what I will never forget. I still feel his clammy hands on me, soft doughy hands trying to touch me.

The day starts like many others. Mya Hill climbs down from the bus onto the tired grey sidewalk. With a thump, the government issued bus trundles away down the tarmac of virtual dreams. Looking up at her workplace she is again hit by the dreary, mind numbing ugliness of the building. Grey diamond mesh fencing surrounds one of the largest, and most profitable to the government, factory warehouses in the southern hemisphere. Mya walks towards the reception area, passing through the gate with it’s embedded metal detector, especially made for the office staff. Passing through the sliding glass doors with the Department of Procurement symbol sticker-ed on in slate grey, Mya waves at Doris the career receptionist. Breaking her record for the most consecutive mornings with zero response from Doris, Mya ascends the steel staircase. With a dull thud, thud, thud, each step echoing forlornly, Mya once again wonders when the threadbare, corporate red carpet would be replaced.

Turning to her right she heads to the managers section of the offices. Approaching their office she sees her best workplace friend, Trudy exciting Fred’s office. Grimacing as she clears the door Trudy shudders visibly.

‘What is wrong, Muffin?’ Mya asks Trudy, using her nickname. The nickname comes from their Production party at the end of the financial year. Trudy took up a dare from Fred to see whether she could fit a whole muffin into her mouth. Almost choking at the time from Fred’s leering gaze, Trudy, barely, got the muffin swallowed.

‘Fred just wanted to look over my shoulder with the production reports from last month.’ Trudy says ducking her head as she heads to the office they share.

Walking around the L-shaped desk Trudy drops her access card from her trembling hand. Craning her head to see past Mya’s curvy 1.58 meter frame, Trudy quickly bends over to pick up her access card from the floor.

‘What is with you today? You look like a cornered mouse in a snake cage.’ Mya says glancing at Trudy’s paler than normal,for a redhead, face as she pulls back her well used office chair. I really need to remember to bring my own cushion for this thing. That third screw is always catching on my dress when I stand up.

‘Nothing, let’s just get to work, ok?’ Trudy shuffles her paperwork into the same, yet different piles of paper. Tying her cherry red hair into a ponytail, Trudy takes a deep breath before starting her work.

Squeezing past Mya, Trudy dons her coat and taps her pockets to make sure she has her keys.

‘See you tomorrow Mya, don’t work too late.’ Looking down the hall to make sure no one is in the vicinity Trudy leans back into the office. ‘It isn’t safe here.’ With a rush Trudy leaves, hoping against hope that tomorrow would have no perverted shame inducing moments.

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Trudy is such a worry pot. This is the office, we are behind a chain-link fence with security guards at all the entrances. Mya chuckles at the foolishness of her friend.

The phone rings, startling Mya. So much for working in peace.

‘Mya, Fred here, can you please come see me about your production reports for the appliances section?’.

What does the fat slob want now? His wife probably kicked him out of the house again for messing up their toilet, again. Then he just takes it out on us.

‘Yes sir, on my way.’ Mya says

Opening the door Mya blanches from the stench of cheap rum assaulting her nose. Behind a large metal-framed glass top desk, Fred sits in all his inebriated glory. Droopy eyes above blotchy cheeks, Fred smiles drunkenly. His shirt is halfway undone and he tries very hard to smile disarmingly, starting to gulp in air as Mya folds her skirt under her as she sits down.

Mya sits in the increasingly uncomfortable silence under intense scrutiny by Fred. Fred takes a sip from a steel coffee cup, once done and realizing Mya could see, and probable smell, the contents he hurriedly turns to put the cup behind the curtains on his windowsill. In his haste he drops the cup, watching stupidly as it rolls under his desk. With a grunt and a sigh Fred crawls under the desk, oblivious to Mya’s increasingly rosy cheeks. Finally grasping the cup in triumph Fred looks up, forgetting or simply not caring he tries to look up Mya’s skirt. Realizing his plan Mya turns to the side and stares at the faded awards for service on the wall.

‘So Miss Hill,’ Fred starts as he oozes back unashamedly onto his chair, ‘the production for April was abysmal, yet I don’t see the report yet. What have you got to say for yourself?’

‘But sir, the end of the month was yester-‘

‘I don’t care!’ Fred yells as he jumps up from his chair, slamming his palms on the table. Stalking around the desk he starts pacing behind Mya. Leaning in to emphasize, and probably trying to look down her top, he s=continues, ‘I wanted those reports already, and your failure to adhere to Work Ethic and Deadlines will force me to make a note on your file. This will be brought up at the next Productivity meeting and may result in your suspension pending criminal hearings… Unless we can come to some, other arrangement?’ Before Mya can react Fred’s bulk slams against her chair, pinning her arms under his table. ‘Finally I can have you, don’t resist dearie, uncle Fred just wants to -‘ Twisting her chair to the right, the sudden movement causes Fred to lose his balance.

 With a wheeze like a deflating balloon he slams stomach first into the metal frame of his desk. Rebounding, Fred comes to rest on his hands and knees facing his door. Mya panics, knowing she is now a fugitive for attacking a Manager, especially a General Production Manager whose word could send her to jail - or worse, As Fred reaches toward Mya she picks up his crystal nameplate and slams it into the back of Fred’s skull.

Horrified, Mya drops the nameplate, runs down the hall to the office she shares with Trudy. Grabbing the doorpost she almost collides with her desk. Shoving her things into her handbag she storms out of the building, barely slowing down at the security gate. Jumping on the bus, just as it starts to pull away all she can think off is finding a place to lie low. With a glimmer of hope she thinks, Trudy!