It was late on a Friday afternoon. I’d left work and was walking to my car when my phone started boinging. It was a text from my boss.
I was passing by a library so I popped in to use one of the computers to submit my timesheet. I have no explanation for what I sent next. It must have been the waxing moon.
That was the last I heard from her, which was probably just as well because the waxing moon was making it harder for me to maintain some sense of decorum. On the bright side I may be getting that raise.