She did enough to conceal herself. She had no interest in herself. All she knew was to work, work and work. She had clung on to work to make minutes pass in her life – so that those thoughts wouldn’t come back and torment her. She was always walking around with puffy face, dragging her feet exactly the same way that she was dragging her life.
He was a workaholic. Night, day, weekday, weekend – he’d be at work. Did he ever sleep? Did he ever do what normal people do – like going to the movies?? Did he not have friends? Did he not network? What and who is he?? Arrogant, haughty and detestable.
She entered the office, dark because it was a Saturday and there was no one. From the corner of her eye, the cabin at the corner seemed to be lit. Well, someone must have forgotten to switch it off on Friday. She headed towards the cabin to switch that light off. And there he was, working on his Mac.
Ridiculous!!! There are other people who are MAD like me???
Before she could retrace her steps, he lifted his eyes and caught her – greeted her, but in her mind, he caught her!! Oops. Okay, be civilised my dear. Greet him back. Where are your manners? She greeted him back and took her seat. She was aware of his presence all the while. Instead of the usual 3 hours, she just wrapped up in one, and sped off back home.
He wondered what was it about her that he felt like protecting? She exuded a very vulnerable vibe. Like a prey sitting ready for a predator to devour. And he looked around her. There were predators who he knew spoke really shabbily about her. Predators who thought she is a fool, who laughed behind her back at her sense (or lack of it) of fashion, the way she spoke, the way she worked – everything about her was a bad joke. Maybe that’s where the protective feeling came from. She was hurt. Very hurt. Her entire demeanour reflected that. Maybe not as hurt as him, but she was. He wondered what had happened in her life. He knew and recognised this work obsession of hers very well. He himself was part of the same boat.