Iax:"I go about my day, despite being late. Nobody seems to even notice, and I find myself wondering why. I sit at my station in a room full of people, with nobody looking at one another. Has this always seemed so odd? So wrong? Did I never notice this before?
Everything about it seems off, but I've always thought that. Haven't I? Nobody talks to anybody beyond what is necessary for our assigned jobs. Nobody touches anybody else.
I test this new strangeness. A simple exchange with a coworker, transferring files. When he holds his hand out for me to drop the chip into his hand, I hold out my hand with the chip in it, waiting for him to take it. I watch his face, see his confusion when he looks and sees my hand. I can see him processing this unexpected act. Why? It's such a simple thing, to take something from another's hand. But he falters, can't seem to act. Finally, hesitantly, he picks the chip up from the palm of my hand.
I close my hand around his, loosely, not trying to hold on, just prolonging the contact. His eyes stay fixed on mine until contact is broken, then jump to meet mine. He stays there, frozen, so displaced by this touch he cannot act. I just nod, slowly and decisively, then break eye contact and turn back to my station. I hear him walk away. Not a word was spoken, but somehow I know this will have a profound impact on his life.
When my shift ends i head out quicker than usual. I know you are at my house, and, being unpredictable, are likely to have left, or to want to leave. I pass my coworkers as I walk quickly, stepping into a transfer booth just ahead of a girl who hadn't even seen me coming toward her. She stares in confusion as I pull the curtain closed. I hear her before the transfer completes, speaking as if to herself.
"If you are there, where do I go?"
It's easy to pass people in the street. Every person walks the same route, never thinking to step outside of the path they take to get to their next destination. I walk between the two lines of people, for a moment I touch every person I pass, just gently placing my hand upon their shoulder or touching their hand with my own. They look at me, sometimes pausing a moment. But they all simply continue on their way.
I step into the outfitters and find the men's selection. I guess at your size, choosing several options, and leave with my selection. The streets are empty by the time I leave with a white bag of clothing. I walk quickly, feeling my legs burn as I make demands of my muscles I've never tried before. At my building, I step onto the lift panel, out of breath and trembling. When I open my door, though I am unaware, my eyes sparkle and a rosy, healthy flush has risen to my cheeks."