fire escape

 

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fire escape

Gloom and Doom was the unofficial name for the office building, which was pretty fucking accurate given the haze of apathy and hatred with which its employees exited every day. “Feed the beast,” the security guard joked. No one ever responded. Her good cheer was appalling.

“It's because she’s in the lobby,” said Bill from accounting one day. “She never breaches the elevator line.”

The new hire, Toby, spluttered into his disposable coffee cup. No one else reacted; they too had once been unhardened and full of light.

But his good humor didn't diminish. He cracked jokes with Judith the security guard. He learned her name. He left the office each day with plans.

“How?” the other employees asked each other as weeks stretched into months, and Toby still hadn't reached a soulless zombie-fied state. “How did he escape?”

Theories were thrown about, along with a rash of borderline nasty pranking, until Joan from Human Resources burst into Mark from Sales’ cubicle one day.

“Toby takes the stairs,” she gasped.

Heads rolled.

The stairs... they whispered to each other… The stairs… they all joined the refrain. Toby doesn't use the elevator. He doesn't breach the border.

Toby looked up from mail merge to find half the department standing at the entrance of his cubicle. “Uh. Hey guys.”

They smiled.

“Is it someone’s birthday?” asked Toby, as hands pushed on his lower back, as firm grips guided him down the hall.

“No birthday,” they said.

“Do we have a sales meeting? My calendar has been refusing to sync all week—”

They smiled: close lipped, dead-eyed.

“No meeting.”

They pushed the button to the elevator. The cables whirred sluggishly.

“It's faster to take the stairs,” Toby suggested.

“No stairs.

The floor lights flashed down from twenty. Fifteen. Twelve. Ten.

Almost,” they salivated.

“This must be some important meeting, huh?” 

The fire alarm went off.

The elevator ground to a halt one floor above. Fire, blared the automated alarm, evacuate immediately.

No,” they hissed, “no,” they screeched.

“It's okay, guys,” said Toby, “good exercise,” and he meandered to the fire escape stairwell. “It's probably just a drill.”

 

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