Day Two hundred and eighty one
I walk into my office. The waiting room is empty. It would seem strange if I weren’t too tired to really notice. Inside my small, windowless office I throw my stuff down on the desk. The chair creaks as I sit down. I look at my computer, beckoning me to turn it on, start sorting through e-mails. The phone blinks at me letting me know I have messages. My cell vibrates in my bag. I just sit and look at the walls.
It seems somehow like they’re getting darker. Can’t really tell- the florescent lights tend to mess up your vision in the corners. What I wouldn’t give for a window or something. Something to remind of the real world that’s still out there. I haven’t seen much of it lately.
Something’s off. I don’t what it is. But I’ve got an uneasy feeling, like I’m waiting for something. Like a bomb’s gonna go off and I should tense myself in preparation.
Then the crying starts and I know what I’ve been waiting for. I’m used to the sound by now, it doesn’t jar me or even surprise me. But I shut the door anyway because it’s annoying. I sit back down at my desk, recommence staring at the wall. The phone starts ringing. I ignore it.