Pieces [ONC 2020 LONGLIST]

Way leads on to way

"Seneca," a man's voice shattered my lazy dream. The woman in red faded into the familiar ray of light that snaked into my apartment from a crack between my blackout curtains.

"If you're late for work again the Gov might actually fire you. Are you dressed?" Thresh shouted through the door. I glanced down—still fully clothed in what must have been yesterday's outfit, though I don't remember picking this shirt.

Here. An echo from a dream interrupted my thoughts. This one. Pink looks good on you.

I shook my head. The hell was that?

"Let's go!" Thresh called. Frustration rumbled in his pitch.

"Yeah yea. I'm ready." I said and quickly straightened the wrinkles in my pink shirt, combed my hand through my hair, grabbed my satchel, and joined Thresh in the hall.

"Well, someone's serious about casual Friday. Long night?" He said with raised eyebrows and nudged my side.

"Yeah," I mumbled and rubbed the back of my neck. "I think so..."

We hopped on the subway just before the doors closed. I nodded and grumbled a response to whatever story Thresh blabbed, but my mind was 1000 miles underwater. Was I getting sick? No, my body felt fine. All of my thoughts...They're blurry. Like a fog swept over them sometime...yesterday. What happened yesterday? What did I even do?

At least my memories of Thresh were clear. I remembered how we met. We worked together at Raythess. Our departments were on the same floor and my desk looked out on... My breath accelerated. Where is my desk?

How to make a trillion dollars or the one thing needed to live forever—Thresh could have been sharing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity but I couldn't hear a word he said. We walked towards the looming, cement structure of the government building. People waved and I recalled every one of their names with ease. Bob. Candice. Johnathan. Dave. Yet I couldn't remember where my desk was or what it looked like.

The elevator dinged on the 33rd floor. My floor. My computer was somewhere in this labyrinth of cubicles.

Thresh stepped to the right and waved, "See you for lunch."

I nodded and tried to hide my confusion. When's lunch anyway? I'll figure it out later. I bit my lip. If he said goodbye here, that means my desk must be in the opposite direction of his so...I stepped left.

Glancing in every cubicle, I easily remembered who belonged to each. Then I had an idea. Grabbing the next empty chair, I stood on it and looked around. Since I knew where everyone else worked, I just needed to find the one desk I didn't know. Simple. Whatever happened to my brain, there was a solution somewhere.

Mary leaned back from her chair and raised an eyebrow, "You okay?"

"Yep," I said and my eyes rested on a desk in the middle of a row near the back. There. I grinned and climbed down from my perch. "How you doin'?" I asked. That's not fair. I shouldn't tease her. Mary confessed that she had feelings for me at the Christmas party last year, but I couldn't return them because...like a zap my head splits. I clutched my temples in my hands as Mary jumped to my side.

"Seneca!"

A face. A girl with blonde hair. She smiles. A purple scarf. Grey tarp. Blood on my hand. Lights. Glowing glass.

As quickly as it came, it ended. My glossy, oxford shoes reflected the shadows of several people who had gathered around me. Mary loosened her grip on my arm, blushed, and removed her hand from my back. Her brows scrunched with worry as she backed away.

"What's all this?" A man barked.

"Ah, Mr. Klingston!" Thresh appeared from behind and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. We turned to face my boss. Dressed in a casual, white t-shirt he was no less intimidating than when he wears a suit. His hatred for me is only trumped by his hatred for inefficiency. My skills with code are the only reason I'm still here.

Thresh cleared his throat and tapped into his improv acting skills. "I apologize for the disruption. We just learned poor Seneca has a terrible case of tinnitus."

"Wha—" I protested. I think I'd remember that.

Thresh covered my ears like a mother protecting a baby. "Can you imagine—," then without warning burst into a high pitch squeal. And held it. People grimaced and covered their ears but he held it. And held it. Until finally, "—all the time?"

Mr. Klingston straightened his shirt, "Yes. Truly awful. Let us hope this tinnitus won't interfere with your work, Mr. Hale." He nodded at me. We both knew he lied.

"Never," I said.

Thresh grinned and pulled us through the group and down the aisle.

"Tinnitus?!" I whispered with a glare. "That's an old man thing."

"Yeah? So?" Thresh patted my shoulder and pushed me into my cubicle. "You're practically an old man. Your birthday's in two days. Or did you forget?"

Yes. "No," I lied. Who forgets their birthday?

Thresh nodded and gazed at the desk in the cubicle next to mine. Evelyn's desk. I stared at him for a moment before my patience waned to zero.

"You gonna ask her out or wait another 3 years?" I said in monotone. Thresh waved his hand then, with much remorse, turned towards me again.

"I don't know what's going on with you, but you need to pull yourself together. For two weeks. Just cut the drinks for two weeks. Klingston HAS to promote you. You're his best option." He scrunched his lips like he had a bigger point than what was actually said.

I nodded. Thresh nodded. Then he strode down the hall to conquer his own to-do list and I turned to my desk. My eyes habitually gazed at the empty space between my monitor and stack of project notes. For a moment a purple picture frame with a photo of the girl flashed in that spot, then disappeared in a hazy, golden outline. My eyes darted across my calendar, action figures, and the art decorating my small space. Everything is mine, and familiar, yet I don't remember anything about being here before.

My mind is broken, or missing something.

My gut tells me it has to do with the girl I don't remember but also can't forget.