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by  Heckyspice

Posted: Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Word Count: 215
Summary: A reflection of the curent mood in our workplace.




A hundred thoughts had only one voice

A hundred thoughts had only one question.

Is it me?

The survivors of the previous disaster could not find a way to swallow down the words. Their precious immunity became a different kind of treasure. Once it had been gold and gleaming, now simply brittle and tarnished, as if unearthed by the hands of tomb robbers. Exposed and alone, a single thought demanded of many that a fraying of a winter coat should now be ignored.

Drinking coffee to find a solution was preferred by many, even the cold and bitter taste of remnants was palatable once more. Some formed a chorus with like minded friends, either old or new, all singing the same song. Whispers in each verse, slipped free and gave a different melody, discord grew stronger.

Shadows in corners thickened, taking root, eating up space while ignored light switches hung idle. The bleak triumph of darkness neglected by most passing by. A shrug of the shoulders the only reply possible by the few who noticed, the few who kept their heads high. Keeping within whatever light remained was all that mattered now.

By nightfall most folk joined the river of headlights that flowed through the city. By tomorrow most knew they would be just ripples.