Every Monday was the same.
Carl would go in, find his desk, get an adaptor from the lost and found, go to his meeting, go back to his desk, eat the lunch he had packed, try to work, return the adaptor, and then go home.
He'd watch the building slowly go up outside and watch the number of desk go down inside.
An email went out stating that they would be moving reception and sales from the third floor to the fourth floor. The fourth floor lounge would be repurposed as a sales presentation centre.
They were consolidating the office, the email said. They no longer needed the desks on the third floor since employees had "overwhelmingly chosen" a hybrid work model.
Rumour had it that half of the sales team had been let go since in-person meetings were no longer required and a single sales person could take several video meetings back-to-back during the day.
Rumour also had it that Casey, their receptionist, was being let go, and that an automated system would be set up to let in visitors.
The number of Nespresso pods stocked per week was reduced. The water cooler was replaced with a Brita filter. The fresh fruit and chips were replaced with packages of Blue Diamond almonds.
Carl started bringing in his own water from home in a thermos.
YOU ARE READING
Missing Things - FIRST DRAFT
Fiction généraleA first draft of a mess about a guy, a pandemic, and an empty office. It's about missing things. One of the things that's missing is a plot. As I said, this is a first draft and it's here for funsies. At some point it'll be taken down because I'll w...
