GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Thirty Six: Oblivion)

Oblivion: the state of being unaware of what is happening around you.

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Benny Bones had worked in The Building for three years now.

I call it 'The Building', not out of any lack of creativity, but simply because that is the only name the grey monochrome slab of offices stacked in a Jenga pile, one on top of the other, has ever known to the few hundred employees who passed through its revolving doors each day. As far as they were concerned, it had no address, no traceable existence, and no record of being built or run by anyone ever. Nevertheless, like the stubborn relative who refuses to die, The Building stood on a corner in the West End of London, staring impassively down at pedestrians on the pavement outside day after day.

The sheer impossibility of The Building's lack of origin was, perhaps, not as much of a mystery to Mr Bones and his colleagues as it should have been. There is a very simple, very underwhelming explanation for this that I will take the time to explain to you now: 

The Employers that owned The Building chose each and every one of their employees specifically due to a lack of creativity and curiosity that has amassed into a clear pattern throughout the individual's life. 'Individual' is, in this case, completely the wrong word to opt for. They were the most people people to ever people their way through the planet, each one blending seamlessly into the next as a sea of forgettable faces with boringly traditional names on the lanyards that hung around their necks. Hands were never raised, in-office parties never arranged and petitions to 'brighten the place up a bit' never proposed. In short, it was exactly the working environment that Benny Bones' parents had wanted for their child.  

So once again, on that cold Valentines Day, he practically hid behind the oversized reception desk in the main lobby, too-big second-hand suit on as it always was, and broken-in-three-places glasses pushed right up his nose as they always were. Every now and then the swish! of someone else pushing their way through the doors brought a rush of chilling wind into the room, letting cold drip down his neck and coaxing a shiver from the fingers that rested on the frozen keyboard in front of him, poised for the first client of the day.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Benny rubbed his hands together for warmth as employee after employee traipsed through the revolving door and past him, up to the higher levels. Some wore cheap-looking clothes similar to his, some seemed to have splashed out on designer trends or coordinated fashion pieces, while a few, those that stood out from the crowd, glided through the rest in fitted uniforms that seemed to be a part of their body, as if human biology had changed to incorperate these new materials.

Those last people were the Employers, the people who Did Things on the Floors Above, work so important and mysterious that it required capitialisation to be properly understood. They stood out so obviously that watching them move through the wash of people was like watching trout navigate water, scales flashing colourfully in the dim liquid. 

Benny smiled nervously as they passed. He had only been up the Floors Above once before, on his induction, but it was an experience he didn't want repeating. Regardless, a small post-it note stuck smugly to the corner of the monitor with the lift access codes, just in case. He felt his eyes unconsciously jump to the four digits out of instinct: Two-Four-Oh-Four.

Swish!

The doors completed a half cycle again, bringing someone else into the lobby of The Building. Benny glanced quickly at this new figure, and then did a double take. This person wasn't like the others. They didn't keep their head down, and move quickly on past to wherever it was they were going, or navigate the world in long strides, as if they were constantly late for some meeting or other. They weren't even wearing a suit.