Young Underpaid Professionals

FICTION posted by Rica

She gets in her car, or waves at a cab. She drives herself to work, or lets the cab driver drop her in front of her office. She doesn’t take a lift but feels the elevator doors close. She waits five minutes to make sure gravity won’t pull her down again. She gets out and faces another day in her box. Boxed office. Box office. She feels a tightness in her chest; she feels she’s being watched again. Box office. Boxed office.

Just a third of my day, she tells herself. And she feels old again.

She smells her coffee. She wakes up but closes her eyes again. She’s dreaming the day away. She’s starting her day right. She takes a sip and opens her eyes. She sees what’s on her desk, not what’s in front of her. She switches her life on, but the monitor won’t open. She adjusts the cables at the back. She sees white light and stares at it for seven more hours.

She moves away occasionally to rest. She feels her eyes with both her hands. She knows they’re still there but she feels blind. She feels something creeping down her back again but she moves a little to shake it off. She sits in front of the monitor and stares at it for the rest of the day.

She looks at the clock from time to time. She sees the hour hand strike three. She turns off what’s in front of her. She moves away from her desk. She steps in the lift she’s not in and feels gravity let her go. She steps out of her box, and gets in her car or a cab.

And finally she feels.

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