The Faded Dust

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2026-08-22 03:12:38 -

The Faded Dust

The elevator doors slid open. I stepped out. My hand trembled. Not from cold. From fear. The corridor smelled of ozone. And stale coffee. I walked. My heels clicked. Sharp. Rhythmic. A metronome. Counting down. To zero. The department was quiet. Too quiet. Glass walls. Reflective. I saw my face. Pale. Hollow. Eyes wide. I am a ghost. In my own life. I approached my desk. The monitor glowed....

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