by Maxine Churchman
Something was up: terse welcomes and furtive glances as I entered. No-one met my eye. On my desk stood a plastic toy goat; they all knew. My face burned with indignation as I heard stifled sniggers. Sitting, I pretended not to notice.
My phone bleeped indicating a new message. It was a video snippet showing my humiliation. The goat charged, bang, splat, I landed face first in mud. I imagined it was someone else and realised it looked hilarious. I chuckled. Laughter broke out as my colleagues crowded me. I was astounded, they weren’t laughing at me but with me.
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