Excerpt from "Sent From Overseas" by Rudy Gurley

Copyright © 2006 Rudy Gurley - All rights reserved

   I reached for the mug and took another sip, my heart now thumping hard and fast. The headache that had been only a minor, nagging discomfort this morning was beginning to pound despite two Sudafed.
   Inhaling hard through my congested nostrils, I checked my watch. BBC news about to start. But I resisted the impulse to reach for the remote to switch on the television on the credenza.
   Focus, focus, focus.
   The harsh buzz of my intercom jerked my gaze to the phone.
   My executive assistant’s extension was flashing. Her voice came through. A customer on the line to me.
   I asked her to hold all calls; I’d return the call a little later.
   As I sank back into my chair, my attention was diverted by several staff members who were walking past my office, filing into the adjoining conference room.
   I got up, walked over to the door, smiled and nodded at the employees who smiled back with troubled eyes. Slowly, I pulled the door, voices muffled with its closing. I made my way back to my seat.
   Drumming my fingernails on the desk, for several long seconds I glared at the telephone, adrenaline pumping.
   I could feel that time approaching.
   Pick up the damn phone!

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