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Inspirational Creative Nonfiction Contemporary

My morning is nothing special, woke up at 7 am, washed up, had coffee, and off to work. The horns and screams from all sides gave me anxiety and the 35-minute time to get there only gave me reasons to turn around. 

                        “Come on, the turn is right there, you idiot,” I said to an old man who couldn’t use a turn signal. 

            I gave the steering wheel a pounding when I got off the ramp, the man’s face stayed the same, I wasn’t leaving a mark.

            I arrived at the tower from hell, windows up to the clouds, reflecting the sun and blinding everyone before they entered. My shaking hands grabbed my suitcase, and I decided to let life sigh out before I walked over. The front door spun around spiting one person out as another walked in. The main entrance was heavenly shined with white walls and freshly waxed floors.

                        “Clear,” the guard said. Scanning badges for the elevator.

            I walked over to him unwilling to give him my badge, but his job gave him the right to grab and scan.

            His badge was bigger than most, maybe for everyone to see, maybe for him to keep a sense of who he was.

                        “Hey Todd,” I said. Reaching for my badge.

                        “Badge,” Todd said. “Clear.” His tone was unchanged by the name he was given at birth.

                        “Thanks, Todd,” I said. My shanking spread to my legs giving me hesitation to continue.

            My feet stuttering to the elevator, dragging my own limp body was normal at this point.

            The sense of lost souls, no hope and forgotten dreams filled the elevator. The two men behind me leaned against the walls waiting for one of us to push the button. I see them every day, but I don’t know their names.

            The drum in my chest slowed time, and my finger reached for the button giving the two men time to run if they had the will to, but what could they do if they made it this far?

             The Boulders on our shoulder slowed the elevator, giving us the long ride up and the life-draining trip to our floor. It was too late to turn back, we knew it, we felt it.

            The dark ominous ding was the warning we needed to straighten up ourselves and prepare. 

                        “Ready,” I said. My summering voice stumbling.

            The two men, adjusted their ties, cracking their tense hands and releasing a lifeless sigh of enthusiasm for the workday.

            The doors opened, revealing the dozens of boxed-in workplaces, four-sided cubicles, surrounding each person to avoid any misunderstanding of teamwork. The four walls around each cubicle give meaning that you are there alone, and all that matters is the work.

    The floor had dimmed lights and the atmosphere was dull. The lack of noise was intense, giving out a bleak existence to everyone. No pictures were hung, and the windows were there, but the site of the outside was blocked by the shades that were never open. 

My cubicle wasn’t far from the elevator, I was set on autopilot walking to my cubicle. Setting down my suitcase under my small desk filled with nothing but paperwork, my computer, and miscellaneous office supplies. Every cubicle was the same, my desk had no figurines or photos of families or friends, and nothing was allowed except the work. 

I chose and realized too late the decision that I made. I lost my perception of this dream job early in my career, I was to help people with finances, maybe help people with marketing or anything else involving computers and math, but my ideal choice was wrong. I gave nothing to those around me, and I felt little to myself and drained of any existence outside of work.

Looking through my paperwork. “16 customers between the ages of 25 and 35,” I said. “10 between the ages of 60 and 75.”

My job was to take money from one group of people and give it to another group of people. I knew most of them already had plenty of money to spare, but the ones I was taking from were people who couldn’t support their own families.

I had 10 hours to complete this process, talk to a customer, take their money, hear them on the other side with reasons why I can’t do this to them, and tell them it’s too late. This was my life, ruining the lives of people that I wanted to save. I worked at this job for over 15 years repeating and repeating the process. 

It was noon and my break was an hour long, not have much time to cry in the bathroom, eat a full lunch, and try to forgive myself. 

            It was 12:35, my break was almost over, and my sandwich left crumbs all over, my desk vacuum was filled for the day. I knew I needed to always keep it clean. It was another rule I finished cleaning up, grabbing the rest of my work from the side.

                        “I can’t do this anymore,” I said.

                        “Kyle,” Kenny said. 

The supervisor was calling my name. This was strange since he never had any reason to come out if the work was done.

Kenny, the supervisor on this floor, has been around almost as long as I have, he was a skinny guy, baldhead, square glasses, and who always wore a freshly ironed shirt and khakis.

“Yes, sir,” I said. My voice cracking.

“I need you to come into my office.

            I was confused plus; I didn’t even know where his office was. I just stacked my paperwork and placed them nicely on the side, one on the left for complete and one on the right for incomplete. I walked out of my cubicle hammered from the day so far, Kenny was standing next to the elevator waiting for me, arms crossed, bags in his eyes, and a little smile that surprised me.

                        “Did I do something wrong, sir,” I said.

“I’ll tell you in my office,” Kenny said.

            His office was in a corner, I never noticed or never cared to notice, and no window to see what everybody was doing. we walked into his office, the room had no pictures on the walls, the window shades were closed, and his desk was clean. It was just a larger cubicle, one chair behind the desk and one chair in front.

            He sat down on his chair. “Kyle, take a seat,” Kenny said. “How long have you been part of the company?

                        I adjusted myself to speak. “I’ve been here for a little more than 15 years,” I said.

                        “we’ve noticed that you've always been consistent with your work,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

 Kenny moved in closer, his unworked hands resting on his desk. “We’ve noticed you’ve slowed down in your completion rate recently,” Kenny said.

My face sweating bullets and my hands lying flat on my lap, I felt this was the end.

            “I’m sure I can get back on track sir,” I said.

            “I’m sure you can,” he said. “But we are going to have to make some changes thanks to new management”

I spent years working for these people and I knew where this was going, but I had to say something.

            I pushed my chair back. “Sir,” I said. I’ve put my life into this job, and I believe that am one of your best employees.

He leaned back, his hands on the armrest of his chair, and gave me exactly what he thought was the right thing to do after all these years.

            “Kyle, sit down,” he said. I’m not firing you,” I’m giving you a different position.”

My face was red, not from rage but from how wrong I was, and I couldn’t tell how much work he was going to give me with this position that was most likely going to break me.

            I sat down. “I'm sorry, sir,” I said.

            “I talked to the boss,” Kenny said. “I advised him on what I thought would be best for you and he agreed.

            I gave him a nod. “What position are you giving me, sir,” I said. 

                        “Mine,” Kenny said. “You’ve done so much for this company that I felt that it was time for a change.

            He leaned forward. “So, what do you say,” Kenny said.

This wasn’t what I expected from this day. For years I thought I was just another number in this company and for years I wanted to leave but I couldn’t start over from the beginning. I had to seize this moment. 

            “Yes, sir,” I said. My hand snapped up at him to shake his hand. “Yes, thank you, sir, thank you.”

Kenny didn’t look surprised by my answer, but he looked happy to see my reaction.

             I was ecstatic. “What do I do now, sir,” I said.

            He leaned back again. “Make changes to the floor,” he said. “Whatever you have to do to keep the rates up.”

            I walked out of his room and knew what I needed to do. The first thing I wanted to change and not the last.

            I walked over to the windows, the shade dirty, stiff, and unused, the string covered in dust and the dim light behind them was waiting.

            My fluttering heartbeat scared me, my hand moving slowly towards the string. I pulled down and the light exploded throughout the whole floor. 

September 04, 2024 18:52

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