Wednesday’s Inbox

“So,” Wednesday said to Friday, dragging out the ‘o. “What’s so important that you needed to drop out of the meeting at eleven?”

Friday rotated his chair as far as he could without taking his feet off the ottoman underneath his desk. “I have an email to write. And lunch.”

“Could the email have waited till after lunch?”

“Yes, and no. The email will probably take the rest of the day to write.”

“Who is the email to?” Wednesday asked, a bit surprised by the timeline.

“You, in fact. I’ll C-C Monday, of course.”

“Oh?” he said, trying to contain his excitement. His inbox had been at zero all day since deleting the spam at 7:30.

“Yep. Very important stuff.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll expect it by end-of-day.”

Friday opened a new Compose window. “What’s your email again?”

“The—Amazing—Wednesday—at-sign, then the dot-net website thing.”

“Hmm,” Friday said. “Does anyone actually call you The Amazing Wednesday?”

“It’s what my plaque says”, Wednesday said pointing to the name placard sitting on his desk next to the framed photo of a smiling family. It was “a smiling family”; Wednesday didn’t know who’s family—they came with the frame.