Wednesday, January 11, 2006

The Smoking Man

Every morning on my way into the side doors of the office I pass this guy lurking in an alcove to the left of the door. He is always bundled up with one hand in his pocket and the other hand holding a cigarette to his lips as he takes long deliberate drags. He is shadowy and mysterious and way to X-Filesesque for my taste. I keep waiting for him to blow my mind with some startling revelation about secrets I shouldn’t know about. I haven’t talked to him apart from the “hey” that accompanies a quick nod of the head that acknowledges his presence without the need for conversation. I haven’t ever seen the guy in the building or during any other time but he is there every morning. Maybe he is spying on me for the Soviets, or maybe he is the look out for a book stealing crime syndicate that steals books one at a time. Maybe he is a recluse editor that slowly smokes as he plots how he is going to blow up the place if someone doesn’t return his stapler. Those or the three best ideas I have, what are yours?

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