LACKING FRAGMENTS: A Novel (Completed)

A Trip to the Mainland III

It was noon of April 21st when I heard the news. At that time, I was on the 30th floor of the company building, mainly doing the tasks as a Quality Control Assistant: finishing the paperwork my manager asked of me, running before the near deadline. On my desk in front of the computer, I remember encoding the words needed to be encoded (though not the words themselves). It was a typical day at work, I suppose. Nothing new within working hours.

     Started from 9 o'clock I'd been doing the same things in the cubicle: encoding plain data, proofreading documents, revising it, printing it, then sending it to my manager found within my reach in the office. At most times those were what I did from morning 'till lunch time. But there were times—twice or thrice a month—that every one of my coworkers looked so busy that lunch break seems unnecessary. Though at that noon of April 21st it wasn't the case. As I said, it was a typical day, not the kind of hellbound. No tons and loads of tasks, rather only a small amount of paperwork (of which I finished all of them at perhaps eleven-fifty in the morning).

     I couldn't distinguish what time it was if there wasn't any nature. Back then, I wore no wristwatch yet, nor did I put much effort to look at the clocks. Those years I based my sense of time by looks of the heaven; by the direction of the sun, or barely by the remaining work I had agreed to finish. As for the clouds, I referred to their gloominess, to amount of luminescence found in the sky, given by heated sun. It was easy to take a glance at it. Blinding; since the windows of the whole building were built into solitary glass— the type of glass where you can see through it. From the highest floor down to first, it only had window where one could see half of the whole city. This easily made me identify sun's directions. If I knew where to find the sun, I knew what time it was. And so, if it wasn't for the nature, I wouldn't be able to determine the clocktime; but on the other hand, if it wasn't for the look-through glass, at nature I couldn't take a glance. Cause. Effect.

     That noon I was done with my whole paperwork for the day. I noticed I felt sleepy too, right after everything. I thought, I had to drink coffee to fight this drowsiness. There might be a possibility that my manager would lend me some other work, that could be a rush type of work. So, of course, I had to fight drowsiness. I had to stay awake. For I had sworn to the interviewers—in my initial job contract—that to sleep at business hours is what I wouldn't do. It was just something I promised; it's not to be lazy. Then so, I left the cubicle; I went to the place where brewing coffee, eating lunch, snacks, and taking break is accustomed. In the Common Kitchen Area, known as CKA.

     There in the CKA, I found other employees chatting in the left corner. They were laughing, giggling, as they drink their coffee. But soon, when they had found me at the said premise of the office, all three of them suddenly lowered their voices. The laughs; the giggles, their talks suddenly stopped. Altogether they stared at me for a moment; by that time, I wondered why. What were they talking about?

     That I couldn't answer.

     Instead to guess, I let it go. When the coffee I prepared was done brewed, I walked near the mirror and looked at the scenery from up here; ignoring whoever else was inside the CKA; holding a cup, with no amount of sugar in. Back then, I liked my coffee more without sugar. Plain. This way I was kind of at peace.

     No longer than seconds when the other employees returned their laughs and giggles.

     All while they were talking, I remained standing on the 30th floor of the company building. Sightseeing; at times sipping my sugarless coffee. Like an omniscient overseer of half the mainland. And here, when coffee steam became even more bearable, I took long sip as I looked at the landscape in front and below of me. I saw similarities near the building where I was inclose; there were other buildings with the same height as this. And all these might have the same purpose. All under capitalism. Anyway. Down where I stood, still sightseeing, I found busy streets filled with little cars, with trucks, and passersby. I found moving objects from point A to point B, then to point C. And from up here, everything seemed to look like granular sands. Dots. Mere dots. But at the top of all these, of course, including where I decided to unwind, there stood the sun— giving heat to us below it, to us mere dotted sands.