“Have you
ever had a hunch and didn’t follow through with it?” she asked, touching the
cap of her pen to her lascivious lips. The question seemed completely out of the blue to
Martin, but was something he found rather interesting.
“I try not
to let the subconscious go to waste,” he said, but then put further thought
into it. Wasn’t he doing just the opposite now with his life? He knew for sure
that something was up and he was hesitating to act on it. Though, what could he
do? That was something else he needed to consider.
“Good. I’ve
always thought to do the same, but sometimes what you have to do and what you
think you have to do are different things,” she said with another smile.
“I know the
feeling,” he said, as the woman got up from her seat. He watched her move to
the back of the small room behind the desk, where he could see her sorting
through one of the shelves near the door.
In the
moment that she was gone, Martin thought about how right the woman was.
Unknowingly, she had touched a raw nerve whose implications he did not yet
fathom. He would treat every aspect of it with due caution and not let his
abilities go to waste. If something seemed wrong to him, likely something
was. Martin leaned back against the wall
and took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to face his superior, but the time had
come. He couldn’t back away now.
The large
double doors of the Director's chamber loomed over him. It taunted him for
being afraid of entering the room he’d often dreamt of having for himself. Of
course, those dreams seemed like a long shot now. He pushed himself from the
wall and approached the doors despite his severe apprehension. Using all of his
supply of built up confidence; he knocked, trying not to make it sound too
afraid or desperate. Martin waited for a moment, but there was no immediate
response. When he lifted his fist to knock again, he heard his Director mumble
acknowledgement from within.
He opened
the door and found himself breathless, just as he’d been every other time, he
entered the room. Even when he had no hope of having the room to himself, being
inside it brought him joy.
The room
was large enough to hold well over a hundred people. Both walls on either side
of the room were lined with bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling, made
of an auburn wood that Martin didn’t know the name of. Black, shiny tiles
covered the floor and ceiling, like onyx sheets built to hold up the room
together. On the far side of the room was what mattered most, and often took
Martin’s breath away.
Behind the
small desk where his Director sat was the remaining wall, built solely of
glass, making it an enormous window to look out into the city below. If that
wasn’t enough, it doubled as a computer screen, and the time, date, and
temperature were seen on the lower panes of the window.
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