Vesna McMaster - Jump

Mungo does not approve of the new manager. He looks askance at her: her fashionable outfit curated to be the perfect combo of casual and professional, her solicitous insistence on endless woke ideologies, her damned salads for lunch. Damned jumped-up housewife. He’s not sure how anyone let her out of the kitchen. Mungo stands musing on the woes and injustices of a world that could allow such outrages.

‘Have you finished with this?’ A voice cones from behind him.

He starts out of his reverie.

‘Yes.’ He gathers his papers off the copier. Then he registers who is speaking. He sighs heavily, suddenly having great trouble picking up his documents.

The new manager, Julie, waits with that annoying mild smile. She lets the silence last long enough to be noticeable, and then a few beats more. Mungo finally has no choice but to be able to gather his stuff. He turns to go.

‘You left one,’ she says, handing him his original copy.

‘Oh.’

‘I’ve seen your work, by the way. It’s very good.’

‘Oh?’ The surprise in Mungo’s voice is unmodulated. He wonders how data entry could either excel or be noticed, but rapidly concludes that no doubt, it’s a thing.

‘Would you like to jump the queue on a promotion?’

‘What?’

Well, I mean, to take on some more responsibilities. Take on some leadership.’

Mungo’s gaze narrows. ‘Like what?’

‘Well. There’s a new intern starting today. I reckon they could do with an experienced hand. Want to show them the ropes on the system?’

Mungo has never been asked this sort of thing before. ‘Who’s the intern?’

Julie steps back, revealing the person standing behind her. To Mungo’s horror, is may as well be a functional copy of Julie – only younger, more efficient-looking, and… less forgiving.

He inadvertently shuffles backwards. ‘Do I have to?’