It's Another Epiphany

It was at that very moment as Michael bit into his turkey sandwich that he felt stirring deep within him an epiphany of the likes he had never known before. He began chewing as an afterthought, and mustard oozed from the bread and plopped onto his sky-blue polo shirt into an interestingly-shaped glob. He had to think about this. Yes, it would change the very course of his life. No, the course of history! People would sing praise of him and sing songs about him for years to come!

Michael's appetite left him, having been replaced with thoughts of changing the world and the inevitable Michael-worship that would follow. He placed the hardly half-eaten sandwich back into its Styrofoam container and steepled his fingers in front of his pale and skinny face, enjoying the daydream. But he would make it a reality, he thought. A reality that he will create!

All from a simple sound-bite! Yes, the epiphany he felt surge through him was not so much an idea, but a saying that would spark ideas, change and revolution. Michael enjoyed further fancies that after he came out, he wouldn't even have to do much work. No, he would say what needs to be said and other people would do the work, while he would get the attention and worship.

He would have to test it first. See how it works, maybe refine it. Michael positioned himself in his chair to leap at any hapless co-worker that should happen to pass by. Coil back and wait.

Soon enough, Kimberly, a girl he knew to be quite politically active strut by, carrying with her several binders full of reports and other surely critical office documents. She gave a polite nod to Michael before he burst out in front of her, causing her to shriek and drop binders everywhere, spilling the contents all around the "Cube-Hell" cubicle hallway.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" She yelled with rage in her voice caused by deadlines, stress and weird coworkers.

"I think we've gone from 'what can you do for your country' to 'what can your country do for you!'" Michael said in a not quite booming voice, his hands on his hips and his skinny chest inflated as much as possible.

Kimberly raised an eyebrow and looked at Michael as if he were from another planet. A Martian with pale, pasty features and short red hair.

"You've got mustard on your shirt, she said indignantly, before collecting her scattered reports and making a hasty getaway.

It was then that Michael knew he was gay.