What if feels like some afternoons when I just can't make myself code.
|Albert stared at the blinking cursor, eyes drooping, regretting the late night binge on YouTube. An alarm had pushed him awake and now he was here, trapped. Looming in front of him now were the assignments of the day, each one bigger than the last. He felt a small desperate part of himself urging him to type, but his thoughts began to sink down, down, finding the primeval part of his brain, the part screaming at him to sleep.
A thought. A feeling. A decision. Albert stands up. He walks out of his office, passing the glass cages of his coworkers toward the elevators where he presses the round “down” button. After a minute, a pair of dings heralds the opening of the gold doors. Albert steppes into the square cab and presses the button marked “P5”.
A tickle in Albert’s stomach accompanies the descent as the cab drops from the 18th floor past the first floor and trough the parking levels below. Another ding and he steps out through the opening doors. Turning right, he scans the wall, looking for something. After turning two corners, there it is: a non-descript door with a small window. Opening it reveals a set of metal stairs rising from the concrete.
Albert stands in the doorway a moment, moving his body side to side to catch the angles. This would do. After a quick look over his shoulder, he moves toward the hidden space behind the stairs. He gets onto his hands and knees, crawling to the furthest corner directly under the lowest steps. The floor is cold, hard, and dusty. He lays on his side using his arm as a pillow and listens. A door opens and closes far, far above, then silence.
Albert closed his eyes and began to dream.