(For Rebecca)

In a moment of clarity, I saw a tree, its shadow, and a
figure. I think. And then: haze again. I opened all my eyes,
because it was getting late and I had to go, and had enough
of this shit. The tree, I realized, was my mistake. It was a
coffee machine, and the figure was the secretary, weary
after a long day, head in hand. She was waiting for the next
shot of caffeine, I think. I blinked, to make sure. The
shadow was just a standard red rug.

I closed my eyes again, one by one, and was flying across a
valley. There were lights below, bonfires and people. I
glided downwards, and saw that they were burning office
equipment: swivel chairs, file cabinets, slide
presentations. I joined them, and we sang songs, and
laughed. People were making love beyond the smoke. I played
the guitar.

But then, another moment of clarity. I turned on my
screensaver, and bid my user farewell. The secretary turned
off the cubicle lamp.