Out of Office

I couldn't tell him where the toner was.

The map of the cubicles has started to fade,

dissolving like a pill in a glass of water.

I deleted the app and watched the screen

shiver for a second before the icon died.

Six gigabytes of urgent emails

evaporated into the quiet of the room.

It turns out the world doesn't stop

just because I stopped answering the bell.

The lanyard is still on the hook by the door,

hanging next to the leash and the spare keys.

The blue nylon is frayed at the clip,

rubbed thin by three years of swiping in

to a life I don't have to live anymore.