The mistake had happened almost as soon as he made the decision to move forward. A reaction timed wrongly, and if it had not been noticed, he might have been able to correct it. Unfortunately, he was no longer as young as he was once was and others now seemed to be quicker and better able to do the job. They pounced on the mistake faster than a lioness. He was dead before he hit the ground.
“Let me just try this again,” he said sheepishly.
“It’s really nothing,” she said.
“Just give me a minute.”
“No need. We’ll take it from here,” she finalized.
Doubt frequented his mind like a sentry on the lookout for raiders. It was hiding in the shadows and it could jump out at any moment. He could pretend it wasn’t there, but the looks on the faces of his coworkers, the bosses, his supervisor made him feel doubt’s presence looming to smack him.
“Seriously, I can take care of it,” he implored.
He picked up the box of records and pulled out the misplaced vinyl sleeve. Clearly Stevie Nicks does not belong with Copeland, although, he had been known to drop a needle on both in the same listening.
“I’ll just move this here,” and he moved the record to the Contemporary Rock section.
Mistakes happen, he thought, and sometimes they result in happy discoveries.
Copyright 2015, Michael S. Sommermeyer. All Rights Reserved.