New story

This is a piece of Flash fiction I've written in response to a writing prompt by Lyssa Medana.

She knew as soon as she walked in to the office that she was going to enjoy this job. It was the sign hung over water cooler that made it so. One of those stupid signs that read You Don't Have To Be Crazy To Work Here But It Helps. The casual use of the word crazy immediately lessened any feelings of guilt she might have had.

There were twelve of them in the team altogether and she immediately picked out the most likely ones.

There was the kooky one, Maybelle, who thought that cackling like a banshee made her kooky. Her desk almost invisible under mounds of hideous knick knacks, mooning gnomes and rude sayings. No room for any work to be done on her desk.

The mother hen, Joan, massively overweight and smelling of BO. Smiling fatuously, her desk was covered in photos of kittens. Always ready to listen to everyone's problems and offer advice but no time to do the job she was paid for.

The couple, Dan and Angie, eyes only for each other and no conversation beyond their planned wedding day. All their time was taken up with making lists and browsing pinterest for wedding ideas.

The letch, Peter, incapable of talking to any woman face to face, he talked to their boobs, all the time his hand in his pocket, constantly juggling what she hoped was his small change. 

People were so stupid, no one questioned why a temp had been taken on when there was barely enough work to go around. They all talked about the hatchet man from head office that was due any day, they all thought they were safe as they convinced themselves they were working hard. Pah, they had no idea what hard work was.

Still she'd made an effort to look as though she fitted in, no one would ever suspect her, she was small, quiet and self effacing. She changed her appearance from job to job, different hair colour or style, different makeup. She happily took on all the tasks the others didn't want to do, none of them realising that they were edging closer to losing their job.

Usually her decisions were based on facts, which members of staff were productive and which weren't but this time her judgment was clouded by that bloody sign.
As soon as she knew definitely who'd hung the sign above the water cooler the list would be complete and would be emailed to Head Office.
She hated that sign with a bloody vengeance, years of being pointed out at school as the girl who's mother was crazy.
Suffering from post partum depression wasn't the same as being crazy, she knew that now but she still hated that bloody sign.