Louis
.
.
I thought I understood authority. I grew up watching it sit at the head of the table. My father’s voice filled the room, his presence chilling the air, my mother shrinking, always trying to blend with the furniture.
The way we, his sons, could speak and my father would listen. But his daughters, they dare not speak.
For me, authority was loud, masculine, unquestioned. When orders barked from the man’s high table, the woman must obey.
But what I didn’t know was that even when authority was loud, barked, unquestioned, it didn’t always have to be masculine.
That’s what her presence told me.
Ms Bella hasn’t even arrived yet, but the air in the company has shifted. Almost like electric charges had dissipated into the air.
I was already at my desk. Thirty minutes earlier. I ha
