Enviable Fiancé

Svetlana Yulia Kozlovsky

I sat in the lobby with pursed lips. The chamber, wide and spread, is immaculately bold and masculine with about three storey tall woodsy antique-white walls. Ceiling, a plain stretch to miles with beehive cells scattered in a remote expanse where I’m guessing the air conditioner is reserved. The walls have ridiculous yet pocket-draining artworks and tacky furniture on every nook.

Large glass walls with pentagon-shaped cubicles are set in the far end of the lobby where I’m guessing the staff resides. People file in and out with a hop in their step, rushing in and about, carrying files and merchandise. All with the grace of the dead, without a single sound. That is all my line of vision fa