Like a thick and gritty soup
like a slowly suffocating gas chamber
like sitting in the principals office awaiting punishment for an unknown crime
like getting pulled over going 60 in a 30
like indigestion
like watching a sex scene with your parents on TV in middle school
like a hot stuffy, overcast foggy afternoon
like waking up in the middle of the night sweating because the A/C has broke
like riding the train with a stinking crazy person who is not doing anything but who could at any time do something totally insane
like reading The Marbeled Swarm
like those times as a child when you wanted something very badly and could not understand why you couldn't have it, so much so it would send you into a state of breathy delirium
like that feeling of illogical guilt after a night of heavy drinking
In an intimate office anxiety is infectious.
And with it comes an irrational sense of impending doom.
Bossman, go on your vacation already. I'm tired of your petulance.
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