Finding Her, Finding Me

Later that night I dropped by her cubicle, to hand in my research. She was beyond doubt, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. And it didn’t stop there.

It hit me like the proverbial Mack truck. The first time I saw her, I felt like I’d been swept away by the ocean. Every single cliché I had ever heard came to mind.

So there I was- twenty one years old, at my very first day at my new internship. It’d taken a fair bit of running-around and pulling strings to land that two month stint. A couple of hours later I was sitting around when she walked up to me and said, “Hey, you’re jobless aren’t you? I need a piece of research done.”

“Right. Okay.” I said.

She gave me instructions and walked off, and popped right back in a couple of seconds. “I’m Ragini”, she said, extending her hand.

Later that night I dropped by her cubicle, to hand in my research. She was beyond doubt, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. And it didn’t stop there. All day I had observed her- her aura, the way she made smoking look so sexy, the perfect O her mouth formed when she blew the smoke out. And her voice! I could imagine that low, husky voice whispering in my ear. She was the kind you wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

The next morning she came up to me. “Good job yesterday. Come over to my cubicle in half an hour. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

The rush I felt at that moment was unknown and wholly unexpected. Never in all my existence had such a feeling of euphoria come over me. So later, I went over to her cubicle.

She gestured towards a chair in front of her briefed me on a scenario. “Now how do we get the company to pay us our money?”

I did figure it out. It took me that day and the next, but I did figure it out. I had to. I went over to her again with the note I’d made.

“We have a way out.” I said.

I handed over my note to her, my sizeable, comprehensive note. The note I’d slaved over for more than twenty hours.

When she was done reading, she looked up with a beatific smile and said, “You are now officially my favourite intern ever.”

And I floated out of the room.

About the author

Jane Doe

A regular "kaala coat" by day, Jane Doe loves women, and women love her (albeit straight ones). But she also likes men - quite a bit in fact. Just stepping into the real world, she's a little bit of a babe in the woods, but hopes that in a few years she'll be in a position to help change things- whichever side of the rainbow she lands up on.