Getting Out

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Max sat in his cubicle with his chair pointed to the window. He’d been staring outside for the last twenty minutes, unable to concentrate on his work. On the best days, the work seemed pointless. On the worst, it was a nightmare.

It was supposed to be a good job, decent pay, good benefits. He had a real “career,” unlike some of his friends, who were still working odd jobs here and there. If his parents had been alive, they would have been proud of him.

But it wasn’t what he wanted to do. The problem? He didn’t know what he wanted to do. He only knew that things didn’t feel right. Something was wrong with the world, and Max already knew that it wasn’t going to get any better.

“Psst, Max,” whispered Jeremy, his cubicle neighbor.

“Huh?” said Max, waking up from his little daydream.

“You’ve been staring out the window for like forever, man,” said Jeremy. “Big Tom is going to come around soon, you know.”

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