Flowers for Meg

Meg. Not Megan or Meghan or even Margaret.Just Meg.Her name was as simple as her world.Every day was the same. With a piping hot cup of coffee, she’d stroll from her dingy bedroom to a dusty office across the hall. She’d issue orders to people she didn’t care to know. She’d fire them because she could and cared zero about how it hurt the minimum wage 1099 gig employees struggling to make ends meet.It would not matter to Meg that one stayed home with her dying husband and disabled daughter. She could care less about the single mother trying to put her twins through school with three jobs. The fact that Meg’s employees were counting on every scrap of work they could get to pay for medications and rents would be of no consequence. Hell, it gave her more power. Meg had no life and couldn’t imagine anyone else would either. It was really that simple – to her. At 5 p.m. on the dot, she’d turn her notifications off and eat grape pop tarts for dinner. By eight, she was back to her room with only a single light on and no plans. Tomorrow would be the same. She liked it that way. Alone but not bitter.Until one day. Until the day the pink flowers came with a note attached and a wayward link and everything in Meg’s simple life began to shatter.

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