Flux

Chapter one
    Catching the Bus

    Iain stood on the pavement outside the place where he worked, fumbling through pockets to find the crumpled packet of cigarettes he knew was in there somewhere. The constant drizzle which had been falling all day pasted his hair to his forehead. Following yet another tedious shift, the weekend stretched out before him, beckoning.
    He’d spent most of the day watching the large chrome clock which dominated the office, unable to tear his gaze away for any length of time. He studied the second hand as it clunked around, moving with painful sluggishness. His mind played tricks as he stared, time slowed to the point where the hands appeared to travel backwards, adding vital seconds to the working day.
    With a sigh, he looked away from the clock and back to the screen which sat on the desk in front of him, picking up the next printout and tapping the keys.
    Three o’clock came and he heard a voice over his shoulder, grating on his ears the way it always did, causing him to sink down involuntary into his chair.
    “Iain, could I please have a word?” It was Michelle, his manager. With an audible groan, and without bothering to stand, he swivelled in his seat to face her.
    Iain didn’t think her very intelligent, dim even, but what she lacked in brains she made up for with a keenness to please her masters and a bossy streak to match. He often wondered about her home life and felt sorry for her downtrodden boyfriend.
    As she ranted at him about missed targets and input errors, Iain did not care to listen, instead he stared, cow eyed, nodding at all the right moments. He was thinking about what he wanted for dinner; chips or something tasty in the pub. Standing over him with pristine blond curls, tight fitting blouse and pencil skirt, he could see the outline of her bra through the thin, white material and his mind turned away from food as he tried to picture her naked, wondering what she would be like in bed.
    After she had finished putting him firmly in his place, Michelle turned and walked back across the office. As she did, he took a good look at her backside before chuckling to himself and with a shake of his head, returned to punching numbers into the keyboard.
    Eventually, the clock completed its intrepid expedition to five. Grabbing his coat on the way, Iain made a hasty exit, shouting his goodbyes and wishing all his fellow workers a good weekend as he made his way out of the door.
    As usual, he was the first to leave. The street outside was busy, as it always was at clocking off time on a Friday and with the packet of cigarettes located, it was time to repeat the process of rummaging through his pockets to find a lighter, which being smaller, presented the greater challenge. Furtling amongst the loose change and accumulated junk, he finally found what he was looking for in the very last place he checked; which was always the case.
    Lighting his cigarette he took a deep drag, no longer in any kind of rush to be anywhere and content that the weekend had finally started. Gabby and James walked past; Iain smiled and waved. Ever since he’d caught them together in the photocopying room three months before, neither one of them would as much as look him in the eye. He’d never told anyone.
    Anticipating drinks with friends, Iain found his MP3 player and spent some considerable time untangling the headphone cord before popping the ends in his ears. Enveloped in sound, the outside world became thoroughly blocked out as The Doors were piped directly into his head. Iain started to move along the street contained within his own little bubble of existence.
    A vibration in his pocket alerted Iain to an incoming message. He fumbled about once more, accidentally stubbing out the cigarette on his sleeve, leaving a small but perfectly formed black circle of a scar on the material.
    “Arse.” He brushed the ash from his coat.
    Extracting the phone he glanced down to read the text. It was just Dave being a prat again and sending porn. Dave was already in the pub, along with Gary, waiting for him. Grinning, he started to tap his reply into the phone.

    A lone magpie sat on the curb and Iain nodded in its direction before stepping directly into the path of the rapidly approaching number 19 bus, whizzing its passengers towards their family and friends at the end of the working week.
    With a crunch, Iain’s whole world went black. All that he was aware of as his horribly twisted and broken body