EYES

Pete's eyes are watching me as I type this. For twenty minutes, the room has been silent except for the sound of him turning the pages of Mayfair and the furious 180 w.p.m. beat of my typing. Now he is staring at me and the room is filled with oppression.

I will continue to type. I will ignore him. And yet, each time I pause, each time I think about what to write, I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head. Out of the corner of my own eye, I can see his stupid wide face. His ridiculous beard.

I have worked with Pete for six months now and I imagine that I have witnessed pretty much all that his domed cranium has to offer.

I use him as my donkey, making him haul the bundles of papers and magazines to the appropriate bays of the warehouse. I take a special kind of pleasure in watching him load up the vans. This is what my years of knowledge and experience have given me: the right to order a massive fat twat about.

'Have a look at this, Rob,' he says. He hands me the magazine, a wide, dirty index finger pointing roughly towards the image he wants me to look at. I notice, without much emotion, that he has torn a page. The magazine will have to be discarded, placed on the spoilage list.

Next, I turn my attention to the picture. It is on the 'Readers' Wives' page. There is something vaguely familiar about her. I think it's the hair - a dirty blonde colour, hanging in thick trands, framing the pale vacancy of her face. I stare coldly at her dangling udders, at the unsavoury mess between her legs which she is displaying with such a lack of care. Her name at the top of the picture drives sparks of recognition into my brain.

'It's Janet from the Listergate Depot, isn't it?' Pete asks.

I look again, more closely, trying to imagine the eyes which are concealed behind the black bar covering her face. And I realise that Pete's right. It is her. It's definitely her.

Wordlessly, I pass him the magazine and turn back to the computer. Amid the sparks, I still continue to see the image of Janet's flaccid, fleshy body. It haunts me. I rub my eyes.