Something I noticed over the months was the large number of cubicles becoming empty.

They grew in an erratic manner, the empty spaces sometimes being an all consuming area or just an empty cubicle among a crowd of occupied ones. Either way, nobody seemed to care about those missing employees.

I don't know if I would have noticed it due to the vast crowd on this floor, but when all the employees who worked around me disappeared, I wasn't sure what to think, probably a massive layoff to cut costs.

From the empty spaces, I remember seeing one of the workers who had a broken hand, he could barely fill a third of the daily quota, probably failing to meet expectations should be one of the elimination factors.

Good to know that I don't run that risk.

I started to bring a thermos to work, the line was too long and a glass was no longer enough, but I just wanted to be able to bring my computer with me, I could fill 15 spreadsheets in the time it takes to get to the coffee maker.

Whenever I wait in line, I don't know what to think about my colleagues. We are similar in many ways, but I know that compared to me they cannot even be considered people, they are just shadows running through the motions.

As I rub my head, it seems the last strands of my hair finally come unbidden.

I remember the panic I felt the first time it began to fall in clumps, but a sip of coffee was enough to take the edge of those wasteful thoughts, who cares about appearance, work was the only thing that mattered.

The noises of the line could be simplified to nervous ticks, like tapping a leg on the ground and the sound of clicking pens to guttural grunts, the kind of noise a hungry beast would make after being trapped in an office cubicle for hours.

They really are like animals in that sense.

I notice the sudden stop in the queue. Why would it... stop? It couldn’t stop, it shouldn’t stop, I have coffee to drink, I have work to do, how dare they let me wait, I don't accept it, I DON'T ACCEPT THIS.

Before I could break in violent tremor, I saw a group of people coming in carrying cardboard boxes pulled by a cart, they ran ahead of the line passing by us. I could barely register everything happening when I realized that the skinny and small creatures climbing a ladder were pouring the contents of those boxes into the machine.

I felt a wave of relief flooding my body, those guys came to refill the machine

Very good.

Focusing on the contents, containers with a red substance with droplets of fat rising to the top, I could have swwear I saw a hand in one of the jars, strange.

But the line was moving back again.

And everything was fine with the world.

I go back to my cubicle feeling the heat of the thermal in my palms.

Taking a different path today following the printers, I wonder if it was by intention or unconsciously, but I end up passing by that Guy’s cubicle.

It's been a long time since I last spoke to him. I thought to say hi and ask how he was doing, but even when he was on the other side of the plastic wall of his enclosure, he didn’t acknowledge my presence at all, too focused on his drawings to notice his surroundings.

He would rather draw than work in his spare time?

I could feel my contempt for him reaching a new level. I can't understand how I could have related to an idiot like him.

I returned to my table in a comfortable silence knowing I was the better worker.