“Doesn’t it just feel like a Thursday? I swear, I just keeping thinking it’s Thursday,” Justine said. She was idly stirring her coffee, though the cup had been half consumed since morning. “Maybe Wednesday got sick and Thursday’s filling in for it–a substitute. Don’t ya think?”

The business hours of this Wednesday were slowly seeping out of the clock. The Sun was in the West, heading for the mountains on the horizon. All of Thursday’s tasks would take too long to even commence this evening, so all that could be done was sit in the dim office and shoot the shit. April adjusted the arrangements of the pens in her cup. “Yeah, sure.”

April continued, “Tell you what, I’d bet we’ll come in tomorrow and it’s totally gonna feel like Wednesday. They probably just switched days. Like, Wednesday had her kid’s school play to go to today–The Three Little Pigs–so Thursday and Wednesday traded shifts.”

“Huh, maybe.”

“Oh! Or maybe it’s Thursday who had the obligation. Maybe she has to testify at Friday’s small claims court appearance tomorrow, so she got Wednesday to trade with her.”

Every day, April thought, Justine’s personifications of the days of the week seemed to be getting more intricate.

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About John D. Moore

Writer, cartoonist, filmmaker, and student of Japanese language, literature, and cinema at the University of Utah.

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