Survivor's Guilt
note: sadly, this is non-fiction. all too non-fiction. therefore, i will put it behind a cut for those who don't wish to read.
note 2: this economy sucks.
It was the first Monday back from the Christmas break.
I didn't think twice when I saw you entering the conference room while I put my lunch in the fridge. Meetings of different departments happen at that time fairly frequently, and I was somewhat occupied with getting my stuff back to my cubicle. I figured I'd see you up front after the meeting - while I was getting my 2nd cup of coffee - and I'd say welcome back. We'd discuss the trip and my completion of The Count of Monte Cristo at lunch.
The doors stayed shut a long time.
Afterwards, the office was gloomily quiet. The only noises besides my quietly playing iPod were of boxes being shuffled, doors being shut, files being moved.
Whispers.
I was somewhat surprised when you came back to my cube. I figured at first you must have been looking for an invoice I had forgotten to return yet again. Until I noticed your eyes...
"They let me go," was all you could say.
We hugged. I asked if you were ok, if you needed anything. You gave me a weak smile, nodded 'no', and left.
You were gone before I ever got back up front.
One more stopped by and gave me the goodbye hug. Three others did not - not that I blame them.
I wouldn't be able to meet them in the eye, either.
And it was all over by 10 am.
It's quiet there now. Offices have already been moved, computers shut down, cell phones turned off. Duties rearranged.
And I try not to ask 'Why now?', and just try to keep going.
Oh, and I took down the decorations today. Just didn't seem right. Nothing does.
note 2: this economy sucks.
It was the first Monday back from the Christmas break.
I didn't think twice when I saw you entering the conference room while I put my lunch in the fridge. Meetings of different departments happen at that time fairly frequently, and I was somewhat occupied with getting my stuff back to my cubicle. I figured I'd see you up front after the meeting - while I was getting my 2nd cup of coffee - and I'd say welcome back. We'd discuss the trip and my completion of The Count of Monte Cristo at lunch.
The doors stayed shut a long time.
Afterwards, the office was gloomily quiet. The only noises besides my quietly playing iPod were of boxes being shuffled, doors being shut, files being moved.
Whispers.
I was somewhat surprised when you came back to my cube. I figured at first you must have been looking for an invoice I had forgotten to return yet again. Until I noticed your eyes...
"They let me go," was all you could say.
We hugged. I asked if you were ok, if you needed anything. You gave me a weak smile, nodded 'no', and left.
You were gone before I ever got back up front.
One more stopped by and gave me the goodbye hug. Three others did not - not that I blame them.
I wouldn't be able to meet them in the eye, either.
And it was all over by 10 am.
It's quiet there now. Offices have already been moved, computers shut down, cell phones turned off. Duties rearranged.
And I try not to ask 'Why now?', and just try to keep going.
Oh, and I took down the decorations today. Just didn't seem right. Nothing does.