Rage - part I

"Are you sure your despair isn't more than you're telling?" an unusually high-pitched male voice said.

Elma, crouched on her feathered white sheets, lifted her chin to look up at him from her computer. The intruder was standing between the tiny crack in the door and the high frame. She blinked a few times before she was ready to speak.

"What on earth are you doing here right now? Shouldn't you be at work? Has something happened between you and Bill? A rift maybe?"

The intruder shrugged his broad shoulders and showed no sign of speaking.

"If it's not that, what is it? Is it the flu again? Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine and as far as my job is concerned I can say that things are as they should be between an employer and his employee, in this case Bill and me. But I can't say the same for you, because what happened between you and your boss that made you decide to run away from him?"

Elma swallowed to relieve herself.