I looked at the unfamiliar sorroundings. Somehow, the three bland colored cublicle walls seemed somewhat comforting in its bareness and conformity.
They said that the last person in my position had to leave due to 'extentuating personal circumstances'. Whispered murmurs floated around about his sanity, how he seemed to have gone to a different place mentally and sought comfort there. a place where our subconscious does not shed light. Did he know he was slipping?
I wonder how different he was to me. Did he sit here and ponder on the starkness of the jarringly white overhead light? did he notice the slightly crooked angle of the air vent and mentally straighten it out a thousand times to an exact horizontal? I wonder if the job had anything to do with how he ended up. Suddenly I laughed out loud dismissing these thoughts. Startling myself, I quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard. Surely i'm not going crazy. But then again, how would I know?
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