*

Man sat alone in the office.

"Dreams. Made of water. An infinite number of excuses in every drop. Then a cell is born, then skin, then mind, then the sense of water on the skin. It touches the mind in dreams though it is all the same. Evaporation occurs during sleep. Walking upright when awake, some 8000 steps a day, but going where? Back to the water? Children of time, and time is a bastard. I am a bastard, but I hear them out there. They disappear at night. Where? Strange voices come and go. These people come from and return to the water maybe, while I dream about Greece."

Such meditations proved distracting and sometimes comforting while processing invoices, as did the pleasure of stroking that sensitive part of the body found between the legs. Mr. Supervisor scolded Man on several occasions, less for the act and more for the messy consequences. But realizing it could not be prevented, he had brought in a constant supply of tissues at some extra expense. Man vehemently refused to bathe, yet another liberty that was uncontested, and after many months of obedient solitude, was even allowed to leave the office and roam the building and adjoining warehouse freely at night. It was learned that the creature frequented the staff room, where a television was mounted and always left tuned onto a reality channel, and where several pop cans were found carelessly littered about every morning.

"There is something I want to ask," Man declared when Mr. Supervisor opened the door one day.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Where do I fit into the scheme of things, and how is it I came to work in this place?"

"All of us must work, at one thing or another, and do whatever we are good at. You happen to be a very efficient clerk and executive assistant; however, I do not know how exactly you came to us. But you do your job so well that I'm sure that is reason enough for why you do it and must continue," he explained.

"I think I would like to move away and see what there is outside these walls."

The remark startled Mr. Supervisor, who suddenly slammed the door in agitation.

"There is nothing out there worthwhile that you don't already know from these books. Believe me, it is far better to learn of heartache from Austen than to feel it yourself. Look at the paintings of the great cities. I was in Paris recently and assure you that any painting of the place is far easier on the eyes. You see, over and over, art of every kind has made a beautiful world unto itself. This is the same and only one you know and that should be gratifying enough. I bet this is all because of that damn television. Have I taught you nothing?"

And so, Man revealed such inevitable queries for the first time. Maybe this was merely the consequence of unfruitful and forced labor and continual learning, but the curiosity increased and became a constant distraction from the work that urgently needed to be finished. Man soon grew confrontational in the office, took no reprimand seriously, refused to work, while introspectively there kindled an inextinguishable fire of self-questioning and marveling about possibilities in the real world outside.

Several attempts to escape were made. Vandalism occurred in the staff room; the television set was smashed. Desks and tables were repeatedly upset. Many important documents were run through the paper shredder. Obscenities were painted on the warehouse walls. A helpless worker was bitten on the leg when the culprit of all these mutinies was discovered outside the designated office and in a bathroom one morning. Eventually, because there were no other options, Mr. Supervisor ordered that Man be returned to the steel cage still kept in the back of the warehouse.

*