CHAPTER: 4 "Work"
It was dark, it was cold. There was nothing in this vast space no matter where my eyes gazed. It was an eternal darkness. I couldn't feel my body, nor could I tell if my eyes were open or closed. I was there, but I didn't have proof that I existed.
Then, in this vast expanse of nothingness, I saw a light—a bright light. But instead of warmth, it gave an eerie coldness. I looked closer and realized that the light was not from flames or Sun, but came from a giant distorted...
"Fuaaaaghhhh!!!!!!" I sprang up from my bed, awake and covered in sweat.
"What was that dream?" I questioned myself, but the memory of the dream had already faded too much to remember.
As I staggered to the bathroom my heart still beating at a fast pace due to fear, I wiped the sweat from my brow, I quickly washing myself in the bathroom.
Knock! Knock!
"Vergil, are you alright? Hey, Vergil, what happened?" Nicole shouted while banging on the door.
I opened the door after wearing a formal shirt and black pants.
"Ah, sorry for making you worried. Well, you see, I just had a nightmare and nothing else." I apologized to her feeling the regret of making her worry while searching for my long coat, hat, and leather satchel.
"Oh, is that it? I thought you got food poisoning from eating my food. I'm glad that's not the case." she laughed it off, though there was a slight disappointment in her face.
"Well, I gotta go for my work then. See ya in the evening. And thanks for checking after me. " I bid her farewell for now.
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As the misty dawn broke over the cobbled streets of Ekaref the snow which covered the streets yesterday now completely vanished, I emerged from the narrow alleyway. Putting a sturdy bowler hat atop my head and hanging a worn leather satchel over my shoulder, I set off briskly towards my place of employment.
My occupation as a document clerk at the esteemed firm of Ewans & Co. was a position of moderate importance, situated just below the upper echelons of the office hierarchy. While it did not afford me the fancy lifestyle of the city's elite, it provided me with a respectable income and a sense of pride.
Approaching the imposing red-brick facade of the Ewans & co. Building, I paused for a moment to admire its grandeur. Tall arched windows loomed above, their panes glinting in the early morning light. No matter how many times I see this sight I never get tired of it. But, despite its imposing exterior, the building buzzed with activity, a testament to the industrious spirit of Ekaref's commerce.
With a polite nod to the old doorman, I stepped into the bustling lobby, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and fine tobacco. The sound of typewriters clicking and bustling footsteps filled the air as clerks hurried to and fro, their tails and top hats bobbing with each hurried step.
Making my way to the elevator, one of the few pieces of technology I am glad was created, I joined a small group of colleagues, exchanging polite nods and murmured greetings as we ascended to the upper floors. The journey was brief but filled with anticipation, each floor bringing me closer to another day's work.
Arriving on the fourth floor, I made my way to the cramped cubicle, which I called mine, nestled amongst rows of similarly appointed workstations. The space was cluttered with stacks of parchment and inkpot, a testament to the ceaseless tide of paperwork that flowed through the firm.
Settling into my chair, I began my daily routine, meticulously examining each document with a keen eye for detail. My quill dancing across the page with practiced precision, making corrections and annotations with a flourish.
As the hours passed, the steady rhythm of scratching quills and shuffling papers filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of crinoline skirts or the distant clatter of a passing carriage. Despite the monotony of the work, I found solace in the routine, a sense of purpose in knowing that I played a vital role in the workings of the firm.
And so, as the gas lamps flickered to life and the shadows lengthened across the office floor, I packed away my quill and parchment, the weight of another day's work lifting from my weary shoulders.
Though my station in life may not have afforded me the lavish comforts of the aristocracy, it provided me with something far more valuable: a sense of superiority among my fellow companions.