Free The Cube People by Christian McPherson Page A

uterus.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œDo me a favour, go to the pharmacy and pick me up a pregnancy test.”
    â€œReally?” I say excited.
    â€œI’m not sure; don’t get your hopes up.”
    As I walk to the pharmacy, my mind is popping and flashing, like I’m flipping channels on the TV. The noise of the shoppers and the shopping-mall lighting contribute to my disorganized thoughts. I could be a dad. I might have fathered a child. As I pass through the turnstile I read a headline from the newspaper stand: “Man Dies in Head-on Collision.” We’ll need to get an infant car seat. How much do they cost?
    I find the aisle with the pregnancy tests and decide to go with the generic pharmacy brand, a two-for-one pack. If it’s negative, I figure we can use the second test next month if we need to. If she is pregnant, I know that she’ll want another test to double check.
    As I pay for the kit, I make sure to smile that extra little bit, so the clerk knows that I’m hoping for a positive result, rather than the poor bastard who’s hoping for a negative one so he doesn’t have to head off to the Morgentaler clinic. The clerk puts the kit into the bag after scanning it. She doesn’t even look at it. I stop smiling so hard.
    I walk back to my building. As I approach the main door, I see Line arguing with a man transporting twenty large boxes on a flatbed dolly.
    â€œListen lady, I just drop the stuff off. This is what the order says. I’m just doing my job.”
    â€œWhat’s up?” I ask Line.
    â€œI ordered one box of each colour of file folder, but it says I ordered one flat of each colour. He showed me the form, and it’s true. I checked the wrong box. But why would anyone want a flat of file folders. You figure common sense, no?”
    â€œThis is the government, Line.”
    â€œTrue,” she says taking a long haul off her menthol smoke.
    â€œHow many colours are there?”
    â€œTen,” she laughs.
    I catch the guy with the flatbed and ride up with him in the elevator. “That’s a lot of file folders.”
    â€œYou’re telling me, Mack,” says the guy.
    I follow the guy out of curiosity, just to see it with my own eyes. We pass by Crazy Larry who is standing up as per usual, but instead of looking out the window he’s looking at us coming down the hallway.
    â€œHi buddy,” says the delivery guy to Crazy Larry.
    â€œHi,” Crazy Larry says, really slowly like he is stoned.
    â€œWhat’s his problem?” the delivery guy whispers to me after we pass.
    â€œHe’s crazy.”
    â€œYeah, no shit.”
    When we arrive at the business centre, I can barely believe my eyes. The length of one wall, about sixteen feet, is already covered in boxes, four boxes high, two rows deep. The delivery guy unloads, making a third row. “Wow,” I say.
    â€œYeah,” the guy says. “Got three more flats still in the truck.” I look at all the boxes of file folders in disbelief.
    I go back to my desk and I hear Dan telling the exact same story he told me about his tooth and the rest of his medical adventures to somebody three cubicles down. I glance over and notice the memo on Paperless Office 2012 in my recycle bin. I pick it out, march back to the coffee room and tape it to the wall above the hundreds of boxes of file folders.

Hungry Hole: Chapter 6
    For a week now, Ryan had been going from pet store to pet store buying rabbits. One at a time at first, then later two at a time as he grew tired of making multiple trips. The hole seemed to enjoy the rabbits. It would retreat a bit, fill up. Two rabbits would make it shrink a lot. But after a few days, it didn’t seem to make any difference. It was hungry; it wanted more.
    Ryan had just tossed another rabbit in the hole when he heard the doorbell ring. He went upstairsand opened the door. It was Bill from next door. “I know you