Pyramids in the Deep End

Sarah stood at the edge of the apartment complex's pool, clutching her water bottle like a lifeline. The fluorescent orange vitamin D pills rattled inside — her doctor's orders after she'd collapsed at work last week. Three months of fourteen-hour days building someone else's empire had left her hollowed out, her bones literally aching from neglect.

The pool's surface reflected the corporate headquarters across the street, a glass pyramid piercing the smoggy Los Angeles skyline. She'd spent seven years climbing that structure, each promotion another step toward the apex, each step costing her something essential — friends, hobbies, the ability to sleep without Ambien.

Her neighbor's cat, a mangy tabby named Chairman Meow, jumped onto the adjacent lounge chair. It regarded her with unimpressed yellow eyes, then began meticulously cleaning its paw. Sarah had always hated cats until her divorce, when she'd found herself talking to this one more frequently than to actual humans.

"You know," she told the cat, "HR just announced a new wellness initiative. Mandatory yoga sessions. Vitamin subscriptions. They're literally trying to sell us back the health they stole."

The cat stopped grooming. Something splashed in the pool — a child's toy, maybe, or perhaps just her imagination. The corporate pyramid's reflection distorted in the ripples, its perfect angles warping into meaningless shapes.

She remembered the office betting pool: how long until Sarah burned out? The over-under had been three months. She'd beaten it by two weeks.

Chairman Meow stretched, yawned with impressive indifference, and padded toward the pool's edge. Sarah watched it dip one paw experimentally into the water, then recoil with offended dignity.

"Exactly," she said, swallowing her vitamins dry. "Exactly."

She pulled out her phone, drafted her resignation email, and pressed send before she could think about the stock options she'd forfeit. The pyramid across the street seemed to shimmer in the heat, suddenly transparent.

The cat finally deigned to glance at her, offering what might have been approval, or perhaps merely acknowledgment of a fellow creature who had finally learned to stop swimming against the current.