Fugato

I sit, engrossed in flow, that exquisite state of mind where time and space cease to exist and the consciousness contains only my work, in sharp focus.

A knock on my shoulder. Guy from the department next door.

I disengross myself, switch to the media player, pause the music, take off my headphones, turn around, say hi with a question mark.

He says: “Oh, nothing, just, hi. How are you?”

I say: “Er, fine. And you?”

It turns out that he is fine as well. He absconds. I start working again, and eventually I’ll get into flow again. But I’m not in it now.

I feel like David Brent dropped by.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 19th, 2006 at 4:04 pm and is filed under People, Short stories, Étiquette. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.