NEW MEDIA & REALITY: Cubicle Man III

Somehow he knew it’d be his last great golden moment.  With an engineer’s precision he measured out the lemon pepper into his ginger ale.  It didn’t fizzle up as he’d expected, but the flecks of black spice floated on the surface, clinging to the lip of glass, his own glass lips as he sipped it down.  Small pleasures taken in the strange discovery of invention, the first to plunge the meat into the flame.

It was a small thing certainly; and only one someone else did try it but it was enough, in times like these, to set him apart in his own mind.  And so, though he disliked the subtle flavor it became his own, and purposely would gently place his cup on top of trash, black pepper stubbornly writing out his name inside the rim.  He would see it there and smile.  It was all the legacy he was allowed.

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