The year was 2026.
A girl came running down the street, talking to her friend breathlessly on the phone. Without breaking stride, she yanked open the door of a taxi and hopped in.
"Quick! Drive!" she told the driver dramatically, as if the mafia was chasing her.
The driver blinked. "Uh… sure. But… where exactly am I driving to?"
"Office!" she declared, as if that explained everything.
He raised an eyebrow. "Address, madam?"
"Oh! Right, sorry. Wait, I'll check on my phone. You just start the car first."
The driver sighed, muttered something about strange customers, and started the taxi. A moment later she finally rattled off the address.
The driver whistled. "That's pretty far, you know. The fare will be… well… let's just say, your wallet might cry."
The girl waved her hand impatiently. "Just go! I'm already late! Don't worry, I'll pay you."
Twenty minutes later, they screeched to a stop at her destination. She flung the door open and bolted towards the office entrance like an Olympic sprinter.
"Madam! You forgot to pay the fare!" the driver shouted after her.
"Oh! Right!" She dashed back, slapped the money into his hand, and ran again — this time bursting into the office lobby.
She had just set one foot inside when a sharp voice called out,
"Shelly! Late again?"
She turned and saw her manager glaring at her.
"Sorry, ma'am! I promise, starting tomorrow, I won't be late!" Shelly gave her brightest, most innocent smile. "Actually, ma'am, my dog caught a cold, and I've been taking care of him—"
Her manager narrowed her eyes. "You don't have a dog, Shelly."
Shelly blinked, then let fake tears shimmer in her eyes. "That's true… but you see, ma'am, I have such a soft, loving heart that I treat my neighbour's dog like my own child!"
The manager looked like she was about to explode. She snatched up a file from the desk, ready to throw it at Shelly's head — but Shelly was faster. She zipped out of the office, shouting,
"Love you, ma'am!" before disappearing.
She flopped into her desk chair, only to see a new face smiling at her.
"Hello," the young man said politely.
"Hi! I'm Shelly Herlen," she chirped.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Max," he replied.
Before they could exchange another word, the manager reappeared like a jump-scare in a horror movie.
"Shelly! You have an interview with a political leader today. Are you prepared? Is your script ready?"
"Yes, ma'am," Shelly said with forced confidence.
"Good. Mr. Magnes will be arriving in this building shortly. Go to the fifth floor and wait for him."
And just like that, Shelly's day — which had already been a mess — was about to get even more interesting.
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