The hubbub of his co-workers seemed to come from behind a glass wall, and occasionally he would catch himself simply staring out at the cubicles, watching people walk by, almost failing to return nods and greetings. He stared and could hear Michelle's voice asking, is this more important? More important than our marriage? He felt empty, hollow. Head stuffed full of straw. Michelle didn't appreciate how good it felt to be a top player in his department. To be respected, to be relied on by his friends and peers. She derided it all as "corporate bullshit," but some of his greatest victories had been played out in these halls, amongst the men and women who were seated in the cubicles and offices about him. He felt safe here. Protected. He knew what to do and when to do it. With Michelle these days... things were no longer clear. He no longer understood his role. No longer understood on an intuitive level how to interact with her, how to simply... be. One by one his co-workers left, and the dimness of dusk fell over the city, which lit up its windows and lights in defiance of the night.
