Chapter Text
*ding*
Piper's daydream was interrupted by an email notification from her dingy old computer. Joja Corp. With a small sigh, she clicked on the email and waited for it to load. She drummed her fingers on her mouse as she went through her mental list of reasons why she would have been getting an email.
Performance? No, she was consistently one of the better sales representatives for her team. Attendance? Once again, no, she never missed a day of work, even as badly as she needed a day to decompress.
After what felt like eons, the email loaded and Piper quickly scanned through it. A new sales quota to meet weekly? 'There's no way I can make this while having a good conscience...I already hate to bother others, this is just ridiculous.' She thought as she continued reading. How could a business run like this? To Joja, its employees were nothing more than drones, they could care less what they had to do as long as they made a sale.
With a huff of frustration, Piper pushed back from her desk and stood, her eyes just grazing the tops of the endless cubicles that stretched before her. A few curious eyes glanced her way, but then quickly returned to their screens. The warehouse was quiet, minus the drone of hundreds of computers quietly whizzing and a few employees making hushed phone calls.
Piper looked down at her desk and eyed the two small photos taped to the side of her monitor. One in particular caught her eye: a photograph of her and her grandfather taken years ago on his farm. The photograph triggered a memory she had honestly completely forgotten about until now.
Her family sat around a table, silent as the lawyer slowly read over the will for the family's late grandfather. They were mostly through the will, and Piper had been staring listlessly at her feet, lost in thought.
"...Piper." Her head snapped up at the mention of her name. The lawyer watched her with gentle eyes and waited for her attention before reading the paper before him.
"And for my very special granddaughter, I want you to have this sealed envelope." With that, the lawyer slid an old, yellowed envelope across the table towards her. Piper picked it up gently and her fingers began to slowly work at the purple wax seal on the back.
"No, don't open it yet...have patience." Piper looked up once again, confused and slightly offended at the lawyer. "That's what it says here, look." The lawyer said with a light chuckle and flashed the letter to her. Piper let out a weak laugh as she read her grandfather's distinguished chicken-scratch. The lawyer then continued to read.
"Now listen close. There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life, and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness. When that happens, my girl, you will be ready for this gift."
Piper quietly slid open her desk drawer after making one final glance up at her supervisors and the camera attached to the top of her cubicle. She pulled out the letter carefully and broke the seal on the letter and pulled out a few sheets of paper. She scanned the documents, and as she did, her eyes widened and her spirits lifted for the first time in what felt like months.
Steeling her resolve, Piper pressed the button on her desk that signaled for a connection with her supervisor while she tucked her photographs and the letter into her back pockets.
"Yes Piper?" the disinterested voice buzzed out to her.
"Hi, yes, I quit," Piper said as she took a deep breath and shut down her computer before turning and walking towards the exit. Not once did she turn back.