The train shuddered. It moved. I felt it in my teeth.

My name is Arthur. I am a data entry clerk. I sit in a cubicle. The walls are beige. The light is fluorescent. It hums. A low B-flat. It never stops.

I am forty years old. I am alone. I am tired.

I look at the window. The glass is dirty. I see my face. It is small. It is gray. It looks like a ghost. Or a machine.

I think of Clara. She is not with me. She left. Three months ago. She packed her bag. She looked at me. Her eyes were hard. They were cold.

She said nothing. She just looked. I understood. I was not enough. I was too quiet. I was too still. I was like the wall.

Now I am on the train. I am going to the office. I must go. I must work. I must enter the numbers. The numbers are life. The numbers are death.

The train stops. People get off. People get on. They do not look at me. They do not see me. I am invisible. I am a shadow.

I carry a bag. It is heavy. It has a laptop. It has a sandwich. It has a note. I wrote the note. I did not send it. I keep it. It is a letter to myself.

I open the door. I step inside. The air is stale. It smells of coffee. It smells of fear.

I sit. I turn on the computer. The screen glows. Blue. Cold.

I type. The keys click. Click. Click. Click.

A sound.

It is not my voice.

It is a whisper.

It comes from the wall.

I stop. I listen.

The hum. The B-flat.

I close my eyes.

I see the river.

I remember.

It was summer. I was twenty. I was with Clara. We were in a boat. The water was dark. The sky was black. The stars were out.

I threw a stone. It hit the water. Splash.

I threw another. Splash.

Clara laughed. Her voice was light. It was like wind.

She sat on my lap. Her skin was warm. Her breath was hot. I could feel her heart. It beat against my chest.

We did not speak. We did not need to. We were one. The boat rocked. The world rocked. We were the center.

Then the water rose.

It was not a flood. It was a memory.

It came back. It always comes back.

I open my eyes. The screen is bright. The numbers scroll.

I look at the wall.

There is a crack.

It is small. It is white.

It looks like a vein.

It looks like a tree branch.

I touch it.

It is cold.

It is hard.

I pull my hand back.

I type.

Click. Click. Click.

A man walks past. He is tall. He wears a suit. He looks at me. He frowns.

He says nothing.

He walks away.

I feel his eyes. They are heavy. They are weight.

I am a mistake. I am a glitch.

I look at the clock. It is twelve. Lunch time.

I stand. I walk to the kitchen.

The room is empty. The machines hum. The kettles whistle.

I make tea. I drink it. It is bitter.

I sit at a table. I take out the note.

I read it.

My handwriting is shaky.

I am sorry. I do not know how to be a man. I do not know how to be loud. I am made of silence. I am made of dust.

I fold the note. I put it in my pocket.

I go back to my desk.

The wall is there.

The crack is there.

It is getting bigger.

I watch it.

It moves.

It is slow.

It is like a snake.

It is like a root.

It is growing.

I feel a pain. It is in my head. It is in my chest.

I breathe.

In.

Out.

The pain is sharp.

It is there.

It was always there.

I remember the river again.

The water was rising.

Clara’s face was pale.

She looked at me.

She was afraid.

I held her.

I held her tight.

The water took her.

It took her hair. It took her dress. It took her breath.

I held her hand.

I let go.

I had to.

I watched her go.

I watched her disappear.

The water was calm.

The water was silent.

I am alone.

I am always alone.

I look at the wall.

The crack is wide.

I see something inside.

It is dark.

It is deep.

It is a hole.

I lean in.

I look.

There is a face.

It is my face.

It is old.

It is dead.

It looks at me.

It smiles.

I pull back.

My heart beats.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

It is fast.

It is loud.

It is in the room.

It is in the walls.

It is in the air.

I am not the clerk.

I am the wall.

I am the crack.

I am the silence.

I stand up.

I walk to the window.

The glass is clean.

I see the street.

The people are moving.

They are fast.

They are loud.

They are alive.

I am not.

I am stone.

I am dust.

I am the past.

I touch the glass.

It is warm.

I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I turn.

It is the man.

The tall man.

He is smiling.

He is kind.

He looks at me.

He looks at the wall.

He looks at me again.

He does not say anything.

He nods.

He walks away.

I am confused.

I am angry.

I am afraid.

I go to the door.

I open it.

The hallway is long.

The light is bright.

I walk.

My feet hit the floor.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

I reach the elevator.

I press the button.

The doors open.

I step in.

The doors close.

We go down.

We go down.

We go down.

I feel light.

I feel heavy.

I feel nothing.

The doors open.

I step out.

The lobby is empty.

The receptionist is gone.

The phones are silent.

The air is still.

I walk to the exit.

I push the door.

It is open.

The sun is out.

It is bright.

It is hot.

It burns.

I step outside.

The air is fresh.

It smells of rain.

It smells of earth.

I look up.

The sky is blue.

It is clear.

I look down.

The street is empty.

The cars are stopped.

The people are gone.

I am here.

I am alone.

I am free.

I am dead.

I walk.

I walk.

I walk.

The road is long.

The road is straight.

The road is dark.

I see a light.

It is far.

It is small.

It is red.

I walk toward it.

My legs are heavy.

My breath is short.

My heart is weak.

I see a tree.

It is big.

It is old.

It is bare.

I stop.

I sit.

I lean against the trunk.

The bark is rough.

It is cold.

It is hard.

I close my eyes.

I see the river.

I see the boat.

I see Clara.

She is there.

She is young.

She is beautiful.

She is laughing.

She is alive.

I reach for her.

My hand moves.

My hand passes through.

She is gone.

She was never there.

I am here.

I am the wall.

I am the crack.

I am the silence.

I open my eyes.

The sun is setting.

The sky is red.

The light is fading.

I stand up.

I walk.

I walk.

I walk.

I do not stop.

I do not look back.

I do not think.

I just walk.

The road is endless.

The road is dark.

The light is gone.

I am in the dark.

I am alone.

I am home.