He always seemed to be in before me. Maybe I could catch him before all the other desks filled up with nosey, curious busy-bodies. I dropped my things...at my desk and started my computer up, quickly surveying the area between me and his office. I was the first one in. The coast was clear. I approached his door, my heart pounding in great thuds in my chest, blood roaring in my ears. I still didn’t know what I was going to say. Something. Anything. The door was ajar. I knocked lightly, too. Now most Sindys were middle class housewives in waiting but not mine. Oh no. Mine was a white trash council house gold digger who with her eagle-eyes could spot a slut-whore outfit up to a thousand feet away across a crowded toy shop. Worse still was that whenever a neighbourhood Barbie invited her around for afternoon tea and 'homemaking' she'd invariably stuff her pockets with whatever glittery accessories she could lay her plastic hands on. I still carry the emotional scar from the time she. More

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