i leave my desk to drop something off to another department. it's nothing that i consider important, but someone does and it requires 5 minutes of my life and time at work to get the papers physically in the spot instead of simply emailing it to the people, but i move. i don't question i simply follow orders.
walking i take a brisk pace in the hopes that i can make it there and back without incident. does that ever happen?
i get half way, the paper is in the bin, the others in their spots ignore my existence, i do not truly matter in their world. their job is important enough to make me leave mine to come and deliver their work on to them. i force the annoyance out of my head and start my journey back. maybe i can make it without incident just this once...
no, no such luck.
i start to walk and can hear hunter s. thompson in my head.
there's one. who is it? no idea. i have no idea, but they are smiling at me like they recognize me. like they've been my friend for years, the same smile you normally get from anyone here that you don't work with on a regular basis. the fake recognition look of you work here too so i know you and we're friends. outside of here they would step over my dying form if i was struck down by a runaway car, but in the building, in the office garb uniform they smile.
'hi' their chipper voice pierces the silence and i croak out a forced hi back. they smile 'the' smile and i force the eye contact. they've been here longer than me. they have that hallow happy look. the one that is getting closer and closer to taking me over with each passing day.
almost back, almost there and oh no, another. this one almost knows me. for this case it's first name basis, not enough to really care, but close enough to not just get away with the quick hi. my name is forced out and i find a way to say theirs. we don't really like each other, both have opinions formed on the other. not sure if either are right or wrong, but they are formed. the names get choked out and we keep going.
almost there, almost back to the safety of my little home away from home, my corner of the box in a box. i have it decorated with things to try to make me forget where i am. a cartoon woman on my calendar is making a sarcastic joke that would offend my family, Irish people and most Catholics. there are pictures of my pets, a plant that is fighting to live, but keeps trying to die and a company product that sits and stares and empty smile on it's face piercing your soul trying to merge with my mind.
truthfully though the warmth is just a bad cover i tried to put up to avoid the truth. to block out the light gray dungeon walls surrounding me. the dungeon walls, however, are becoming clearer and clearer the longer i call this small box mine, i can almost see the golden shackles on my wrists. my eyes stare at the screen and all i can do is smile...
