The Aquarium of Lost Hours

Margot stared at the goldfish bowl on her desk, its solitary inhabitant swimming in endless circles. Three years at this firm, and she'd become exactly like that fish—trapped in transparent bureaucracy, going nowhere.

"You look like shit," said Marcus, leaning against her cubicle wall. He had that predatory gleam in his eyes, the one that signaled he was about to pounce on someone's misfortune.

"Rough night." She didn't elaborate. How could she explain that she'd spent three hours watching her elderly cat, Barnaby, struggle to jump onto the windowsill? That seeing his arthritic hesitation had somehow broken something loose inside her?

"The merger announcement's coming down." Marcus's smile was all teeth. "They're calling it 'synergy.' I call it natural selection."

Margot thought about the word zombie. It had been her mother's favorite term for the commuters she watched from her hospice window—hollowed-out creatures moving through motions they'd forgotten the purpose of. Now Margot understood. She'd been one since the funeral, since the reading of the will, since she'd walked back into this office and sat at this desk and answered emails about synergies and deliverables.

The goldfish rose to the surface, mouth opening and closing in silent bubbles.

"Marcus?" she said suddenly.

"What?"

"If I quit today, would you even remember my name next week?"

He laughed, uncomfortable. "Don't be dramatic."

"No, really. We spend forty hours a week together. If I disappeared, how long before you stopped noticing my absence?"

"Jesus, Margot. It's Monday. Save the existential crisis for happy hour."

She stood up. Her legs felt strange—solid, grounded, like she'd been floating underwater and finally touched bottom. "I think I'll save it for forever."

That evening, she sat on her floor with Barnaby, feeding him pieces of grilled salmon from her fingers. The goldfish bowl sat empty on the counter; she'd released him into a pond in the park on her walk home. He'd hesitated at first, then darted into the deeper water.

For the first time in three years, she didn't feel like she was swimming in circles.