Office

He stood at the window and first looked down. Between the air and the glass outside, the heat reflected and shined onto the street far, far below. It gave him a head-rush to stare the distance; he thrilled in the dizziness of the sensation of falling that flashed through his mind for the brief moment before he returned his eyes to the space between the towers. It was maybe, maybe a hundred feet across to the matching glass wall of windows that contained sleek but boring offices .

Pulling his nose back from the glass, he watched his breath’s fog fade and returned to his desk. Taking up his pen, he began to process through the words on the paper, typed in 11 point font, and slice through them. He hoped to finish these edits by three, though he dreaded doing them. He was an editor though the mental fortitude to slog through pages and pages of writing exhausted him. By the end of the day he looked forward to nothing more than shedding his shirt and tie for a holey shirt, and his belt and pants for a pair of gym shorts. Those didn’t press into his skin like the suit.

The page finished, he flipped it and began the next. He scribbled a question in the margin; three lines down, he scratched out a word. Another word. Farther down he added a new paragraph symbol. How do people not catch these mistakes? he asked himself.

His phone rang twice while he finished the sentence. Finally when he picked it up, the exasperated voice asked him “Did you forget lunch with me?”

He glanced at the clock, letting the phone’s mouthpiece slide past his chin. “Shit, sorry. I’ll be down in a couple’a minutes.”

“Okay, but hurry! I only have forty-five minutes today.”

“Yeah, see you soon, be right down. Okay, okay,” he responded, and then hung up. Sighing, he placed the pen on the line he was working on and then rose. Reaching for his jacket, he glanced across the buildings’ gap. Someone was hanging a large framed portrait.

No, don’t get distracted, he reprimanded. I’m late. As he left his office though, he wondered what the portrait held. No one ever hung up anything.

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