The heater is blasting.
It’s always been so cold in this office. I guess that might be one of the drawbacks of converting a house into an office building, terrible temperature control. That is exactly what this place is. A family used to live here. You’d think that a house converted into an office would simulate a family atmosphere.
You’d be wrong.
The person at the desk next to me is here. Besides him, there isn’t a soul in sight. Of course, that could be attributed to the conclusion of tax season, which ended last week.
I don’t buy it.
Something else is at play here. An emptiness that’s almost tangible. What could it be?
Some part of the spirit of this firm has died.
Will it ever come back to life?
I have serious doubts.
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