Prologue-1: Work

Let's see…

A day at work.

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I sat hunched over my cluttered desk, the light of a flickering bulb casting shadows that danced across the room. The office was old, and cheap, and I worked there as an engineer for meager pay.

Orphaned young, I'd come to know the harsh edges of life early. No family to fall back on, I had to fight for every scrap of opportunity.

Each morning, I walked to the office through the overstimulating landscape of the modern world. My breath fogged the chilly air. The office's doors groaned and creaked, welcoming me to the bleakness within.

My job was to keep the systems running, I completed tasks, wrote programs, and managed files, each task as thankless as it was Sisyphean. My skills, which I worked so hard to build and hone were wasted on simple and easy jobs, yet I couldn't find a different job no matter how hard I tried.

My life was simple, nothing ever went right. My computer was always breaking. The software, outdated and unlicensed always caused trouble. My suggestions, conversations, and even pleas to management were always ignored.

And my colleagues, beaten down by the same struggles, had long since surrendered and did as poor a job as they could for the meager pay they would get.

But I refused to yield. I approached each file, each task, each problem with meticulous care. Trying to perfect a meaningless and meager job.

'Another day, another boulder.'

The office floor buzzed with the hum of old equipment. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee, cigarette smoke and dust. I worked through it all, my hands moving deftly across the keyboard. Now and then, a file would be corrupted or the internet would be cut, a brief setback in my war against the decaying office. These moments, though fleeting, fueled my resolve.

That's right, in a monotony of suffering, any unexpected suffering was a blessing.

After long hours, I went to the tiny, sparse coffeeshop across the road. The walls were bare, the furniture old and worn, but it was a place where my saving grace, coffee, was created.

I walked in, sluggish. The same girl stood behind the counter, she looked out of place for the terrible part of town, especially her light blonde hair, rosy lips, and the light in her eyes. Her name was Chloe, I never asked her but I heard her tell someone one time.

Sometimes, I just sat there and stole glances at her eyes, the light and fire for life they held within them was foreign but to me, it was so so attractive.

Of course, I knew the limits imposed by my circumstances and genetics.

"Hey there, can I get a-" I muttered out slowly.

"John right? I'll get you the usual." She cut me off with a light smile and quickly prepared my order.

I stood there, half-stunned.

"Ah, thank you, miss"

"It's Chloe, you come here every day I thought you'd know my name by now," she chuckled as she handed me my black coffee.

"Thank you, Chloe," I replied timidly and got back to the office.

My social skills weren't low per se, I wasn't introverted but I was lacking in conversing, especially with women.

That was it, the rest of the day was just more work, an especially remarkable work day for me in fact.

The office was always that way, silent, with no conversations, no small talk, and barely any interaction.

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