A Genius Writer's Random Workplace 소설 & 이야기

“ Can we get to work? I asked. “ what about go back home and work from home? he asked. “ No, we will follow the right routine of coming to work daily and returning home” I said. “I need to sit and make descriptions of the necklace design” I said. “ I never knew you were good at being creative” he said. “You never give me a chance to know me” I said. “ yeah, I fucked up then, I should have known I married a genius” I said.

Slowly, quietly, deliberately. I carried my thoughts like a secret flame as I went about my days. At work, I smiled through meetings and deadlines, but half my brain was elsewhere, sketching out ideas. At home, when the kids went to bed and Stacey retreated to her study with her manuscript edits or publisher’s emails, I sat at the kitchen table with a notepad, jotting down scattered plans.

Itinabi ko muna si fidgety Gen and unleash the inner working Gen who's more feisty and bad ass. Work ,Gen. Saka na ang landi. I slowly walked towards the door of his office that I really admire. Nang una kong nakita iyon ay napanganga ako.His office reflects so much on him, it's classic and masculine. Dark woods, squared patterns, sexy leather furniture, wild animal prints for rug, paintings, and books...lots of books or thousands of them make up his whole lair.

Now here I am, sitting in his office particularly doing nothing. There was people here and there working on some random things but I was completely jobless. I completed all the file works pending for this week but for now I have to pretend working. Just Pretend! Why will he simply ruin someone's weekend just because he has nothing interesting to do? If I ever have an opportunity to study his brain then I would screw it open and check what does it contain. Ha! It would probably contain a bunch of bullshits.

Welcome to KiNK GeNiUS. If you’ve read The Genius Delta, you already know that Jonathan Silvercloud and Persephone Fayte are not a soft, candlelit, flowers-and-chocolates kind of couple. They are builders. Breakers. Brilliant minds who live in code, systems, and solutions. People who always believed work came first, not because they were cold, but because they were wired to create before they ever learned how to rest. This Valentine’s Day bonus story exists because they proved themselves wrong.

I need the space to let my brain do its thing. By late afternoon, I’ve filled half the notebook and covered the coffee table with open photography books and torn-out magazine pages. My creative spark is alive and kicking, and it feels so damn good I almost want to cry. “What’s all this?” Calvin asks as he walks into the room, glancing at the chaotic spread in front of me. “Genius in progress,” I reply, gesturing grandly. He picks up one of the pages and studies it for a moment. “It looks... intense.”

My fingers tightly squeezed the pen I had grabbed. I tapped the table with the thin writing tool. I had no clue what I would write. "Name, how about a name." I nodded to myself. I had slowly written the letters to Vera's name. I had used four lines for the job. "Shit," I muttered to myself. I forget to add 'Dear' before Vera's name. I decided against throwing the paper away and starting with a new one. Vera would definitely be upset if she saw me wasting paper. I stylized some butterflies and flowers around her name. About ten minutes had passed and I couldn't sit here in my unproductive manner. I plugged my earphones into my phone and selected a song that would hopefully inspire words to ma

Thinking. The thing about creative work is that most of it is not the making. Most of it is the looking. The standing and staring and letting your brain do whatever it does when you stop trying to direct it. My old boss at the West Village firm used to call it productive stupidity. You stand in front of the problem and you look dumb until you don’t. I heard the elevator and did not turn around. Nicolas’s voice came from the doorway. “I brought coffee.” I turned then. He was holding four cups from the good place on Spring Street, which meant he had planned to stay, which surprised me because he gave his leads room. He came in and set a cup on the table near me and pulled up a chair and looked

Thank you for your email, I started typing. But then I got stuck again. I groaned quietly. Stop overthinking it, I told myself. Just write something. I tried to go into work mode, channeling the boss bitch energy that fueled me in workplace settings to be confident and quick and decisive. I appreciate your kind words about my contributions at Crescent Ventures. I learned a lot during my time there, and I’m pleased to hear that my hard work had a positive impact on the business. As you know, Alexander and I are quite busy these days. I have no availability now for an in-person meeting, but I will consider reaching out in the future should I find myself, as you say, ready for such an appointme

Besides that, I remembered he still hadn't introduced himself to me. “It’s nothing that you should worry about. It’s just between me and my friend. We sometimes challenge each other. Anyway, let’s introduce ourselves properly. You can call me Haze. Everyone does that. I usually work from home, so I need a quiet environment. I reckon you must need an office table for your writing, right? Since there is only one office room, and all my work stuff is there, we have to settle you down here in the living room. There is one small corner where you can actually put a desk, and we can reform a little. There are two bathrooms, so you can use one on your side of the room. The house cleaner comes three