The man’s bluntness allowed for no reply beyond pleading and I wasn’t that desperate. Still, as I walked slowly back to the elevators, realising the trip had been a failure, my mind searched for options and came up with nothing viable. Legal action seemed costly and pointless. 

I pushed the button for the lift and glanced out of the window, noting the light was disappearing and it would soon be dark. The doors pinged open and the lift was once more occupied with the cleaner. He glanced at me and nodded as I entered. 

“I was lucky in the end,” I said as the doors closed. “Found someone who worked here as they were picking some stuff up from their old office.” 

The cleaner seemed surprised to be spoken to so familiarly but didn’t say anything and turned back to the doors. I clearly hadn’t done anything to win him over from our previous encounter. 

“Couldn’t help me though,” I said, persisting for no other reason than to have a sounding board. “I don’t know what I’m going to do next. Anywhere good to eat around here?” 

The cleaner shook his head mournfully. The lift came to a stop and the doors opened. I thought about saying something more to him but took the message and walked out. I checked the time on my phone (no calls or messages) and glanced back. Even though the only button lit up was the ground floor, the cleaner hadn’t gotten out with me. The doors closed on his grim visage once again and the lift hummed to another floor. 

This time there was a security guard present. He was stood next to the receptionist and both looked at me with interest. I had become familiar with that look and I hurried out. 

I walked through the streets to the car park. It was early evening and I passed people hurrying home from work. I passed more than one bar where an older person was singing a pub staple with an embarrassing amount of energy, having drunk enough to butcher music publicly. Another bar was blaring dance music and there seemed to be a dance contest taking place, this time with other drunk people pretending to be professional dancers rather than professional singers. 

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

I reached the car park without checking which path to take, a detail I chose to ignore, like so many odd details of recent days. I had created the path subconsciously earlier that day, I told myself. The car park had a side alley where I noticed a pair of crumpled humans lay, drug paraphernalia next to their inanimate hands. Playing games, living out fantasies, numbing yourself with substances - so many people’s realities were spent escaping it. 

As I left, I stopped at the gate and saw a familiar figure sitting in the car park attendant’s booth. I turned away immediately and drove off before I could meet their eyes and begin to question my sanity any further. 

*

I had a customer-facing job in a world-famous tech giant’s retail store. The stares of random customers was bad enough but when I was accosted again, and then again, by more random people believing me to be something I wasn’t, I ended up leaving the job for remote work. It paid less than my previous role but it allowed me to work from home where I wouldn’t be gawked at or bothered by strangers.

I still see variations of the same people in different settings and I don’t know why or who they are. None of them remember me and I have no way of finding out what any of this means. I had a dream recently where I imagined I was talking to my brother, who was a cat - though it’s been so long since we spoke, it was probably only approximately like his voice. 

It felt like a long conversation but I recall very little of it. The one thing that sticks out to me was him pointing to us, together, talking, and saying “This is nice, isn’t it?” It was. 

One of the philosophy videos I watched talked about determinism. I don’t know if it’s the answer to all of life but it’s the answer that best fits my life. With the words of the man in Wilson Group echoing round my head every day - you can’t - I’ve accepted that there’s nothing I can do to change the way things are. 

Like the strange paranoiacs who see me as some agent of the state, sowing seeds of chaos, and the reality of me just being Some Guy, I thought Wilson Group was some nefarious organisation when it was simply another business, founded and run by Some Guy trying to make some money. At least I choose to think that’s what it is, and it probably is. 

And even if it isn’t, what can we do in the end - if determinism is real, or life is a simulation, or a video game? End it or carry on, knowing outside forces will end it for us regardless eventually? 

In the same way that other people can change my reality, I can too - for the better. My life improved when I made the change from working in a job that I hadn’t realised I had grown to dislike, into a job that was better for me at this point in my life. Routine gets you through the days but maybe I should live my life with the disruption change can bring to routines so that I’m not just getting through the days but experiencing them too. And with the increasing prevalence of pandemics in our daily lives, face masks are a regular feature that nobody looks at twice - a blessing I am grateful for. 

I got a cat recently and named it William. It has yet to speak to me. Today I will talk to someone - maybe that woman I keep seeing, and ask her out. Tomorrow, I hope, will be interesting, in a positive way. 

I have an uncanny feeling it will. 

*

The End