The silent ambiance force me to willingly acknowledge whatever sound struck; paper flipping, shoe tapping, heavy breath exhaling, finger joints popping, liquid paper shaking, all. It’s cold and the horizon within the closed room seemed not welcoming at all. Pretended checking around; right, cleared. Left, cleared, front, cleared. My instinct said back, cleared.
And I started, tear I go little by little. Phew, cold sweat rolled down my cheek (this part is made up). I never thought a 2 inches paper distance would be this hard to be torn.
When suddenly he walked passed my desk from behind. Shoot! I didn’t see that coming. Did he saw it? Did he figure out what I was doing? Cover it up, put on my actress face like nothing had happened. Calmly fold the paper and hide it.
People started walking out the door. I waited for the best timing and off I stood. Slowly stepping and I noticed he looked at me. That gave me a goose-bumps, he stared at me like I did something wrong when I did. Lord! Don’t let me be caught red-handed. 3 meters, 2 meters, 1 meter and off out the door, safe.
Now that’s what I call victory; going in with a piece of paper, going out with 2 pieces of paper. I wonder what it is.
Those who dare to do it deserve it.
May Allah bless until the last paper, insyaAllah