2 Chapter 2

The familiar became unfamiliar quickly. The carousel door looked the same, but the impression it left on me was more haunting than before. Willing adults were going in and coming out with different faces. Even my co-worker wasn't the same. Every word she vaulted only reached me with a vowel sound. A-E-I-, the rest of the word crumbled, traveling from her lips. I tried to remember how to walk, how not to look high while high. A man twice my age zoomed by, a red light trailing his scooter.An electric scooterHe looked so free. It was like seeing his childhood years fighting his former years to death.

At that moment, my mind came back to me. Not in a yo-yo way, not clear, more like a Frisbee. I would still have to catch it or lose it for another ten minutes. My co-worker extended Prometheus' fire inside a lighter to the front of the cigarette, scarcely hanging off my lips.

"You alright, Dimitri"

I heard her that time. Simultaneously my inner voice spoke to me as well, saying 'Getting high with your brother before work is a fucking stupid idea'. I agreed with both voices.

"Yea, Aries, I'm good."

"Helen is the big bad snake these days. Watercooler has it she's taking Neil's job in a week," Aries gossiped. Her voice had more grunt in it than your typical twenty-something woman. A splash of masculinity in-between the words. Could be that way because she chain smokes, who knows, could be her genetics.

"Tell the whole world that an anaconda exists, and watch them reach for sticks to poke at it," I responded, feeling the marijuana drag its way out my body, placing me back on solid ground.

"Let's hope she doesn't regurgitate Jon Voight, and we're all saved by Ice Cube."

"What about Jlo"

"…she aint saving nobody."

"Hey…you ever hear the one about Stanley Kubrick faking the moon landing"

"Not today, man. I'm overthinking."

With that, she dropped and stomped her cigarette. I mimicked her, even though my cigarette was only halfway done. The weed began to kick back in as I walked awkwardly to the elevators. My legs buckled like a baby deer, and I was squished between five to six people whose mantra was gluttony and excess. In the metallic reflection of the doors, I saw the scarlet hue enveloped in my eyes. And in about ten minutes, I have a meeting with the big bad snake.

DING!

The doors opened to my floor, the elevator now empty, but I never changed my spot. That first step into the office felt like landing on the moon.Was that good enough Mr. KubrickA place I spent most of my adult life suddenly appeared like the 'Twilight Zone.' The horrendous square design on the white-brown carpet, complete with chestnut wood on the shelves and desks. Everything else was stark white, like a jail complex with better lighting. I tried counting the tiles once and stopped at three hundred.

The receptionist is too green to recognize me. College intern, she just smiles all day. I don't trust her. I can't trust anyone who smiles that much. Plus, the pigtails make her look illegal. Maybe she's a freshman, making all the frat boys think 'if there's grass on the in-field, play ball.'

Then we have Tom, Dick, and Jane, that's not their real names but who gives a shit. They're upper management, and I'm sure they don't give a shit about me. It's always weather talk with them like we don't all see the forecast every ten minutes on repeat, plastered on that monotonous news channel. The idiot box signaling out force-fed blurbs of socio-political hoopla, and rants from one presidential candidate Melvin Burns, crying to the nation about how life isn't fair. Apparently, he weeps the hardest in the west wing of his mansion.

Next was the facilities crew. They always looked the most relaxed, dressed down, sporting cool names like Alex, and Diesel. I envied them, but not their paycheck. I'll wear the slacks for the extra pay.

There was one janitor I always saw during my shift, a man by the name of Rambo. It seemed like Windex was glued to his hands, and he was always dressed in dark blue overalls. He looked like a war veteran who never went to war, watching the battleship take off, leaving him on the shore, fully dressed. Drafted, but never invited to the killing party.

Ready for nothing but to sweep up more, take out the trash. He was shaggy, unkempt, and talkative. I believe he's the oldest employee here. Too bad, he thought a 401k was a NASCAR event. The glasses he sported always fell down the brim of his nose, and since he spent most of his time looking down, half his job was pushing his glasses back on his face with his index. Everyone loves him.

Lastly is the group of young women who formed a so-called bond at work. They move like a unit, a centipede of porcelain skin, and whenever they wear black, it gives off the appearance that they have curves. With any other color, they look flat as a board.

The waddle I created when approaching my 'oh-so-lonely-cubicle' was laugh-worthy. A few times, I even laughed at myself on just how easy it is to go unnoticed in corporate America. Everyone devotes their day to 'looking busy' so much that they blind themselves to the clones. The true essence of all business, good ones anyway, is clones and snakes. Remember that. The randomized island background on my desktop illuminated my face for five seconds until…

BEEEPP!! BEEEPP!!

"Yes, Dimitri Davenport Helen Sutter would like to see you now. Are you available" the desk phone yelled.

"Yes, I'm ready now," I lied.

CLICK!

No goodbye, au revoir, nothing. The venom dripping from Helen's fangs must be lethal. I imagined the receptionist leaning over her desk with a pool of blood reaching the edge, just starting to drip…drip… What better way to die than high on the 49thfloor of a high-rise

Helen was watching me approach the conference room. Despite the round table, she positioned herself to see down the corridor, through the glass doors. She watched me walk the plank. Sorry, waddle the plank.

"Come in, please, have a seat. I've been waiting for you."

She even pulled out a chair for me. A sweep of sparkle traversed her eyes. Elongated gazes betwixt hard smiles, her cheeks, and eyebrows compacting her sight. For the entire first minute, she said nothing. Stare at a mute person's face long enough, especially when they only show you smiles, and you slowly fathom the ocean forming in that seat, contemplating sleeping with the enemy.

"We've been invited!" she finally broke the silence.

So this isn't my death.Don't worry, you will have one.

"To a meeting with 'The Black Horse.'"

Flabbergasted doesn't match the level of word used to express the shock to my soul. There I was, sitting with Helen, big bad anaconda herself, in the scales. And the news wasn't even work-related. Why even use the receptionist for thatDoes the receptionist know

"Now the location is still being withheld. But I received the information yesterday from an anonymous call. Someone named 'Zeus' told me to tell you about your invitation. Later tonight, you will receive a call at 12:34 AM, and told who the next person is that's invited."

"At 12:34 am."

"Ok, back to work. I just couldn't hold it in. I mean, what an honor. Do me a favor, Dimitri, if you see Aries in the hallway, tell her to stop by"

"Aries is invited too"

"Oh god no, she's getting fired."

I found myself walking upright on the way back to my cubicle. To my left, opened brown boxes packed with images of children playing soccer within a picture frame atop thick law books. Neil preparing for the inevitable. To my right, Aries looking at me, eyes red as Lucifer's skin, throwing up the 'Peace' sign, how poetic a gesture.I never gave Aries the message, how could I She's my only friend.

Torrential rain approached us several hours later, right when work was over. I shuffled over to Aries under the building's canopy, attempting to bum a cigarette. However, the closer I got, the more the energy felt off. Something was bothering Aries, and I could feel it seeping out her skin, into the ether.

"How could they fire me" her voice came out more feminine than ever.

"Aries only saw beauty in inanimate objects. Cigarettes and beer will always trump a flower. She was a gorgeous tomboy."