The Benefits Coordinator

Maria sat in her cubicle, the fluorescent lights humming above her like trapped insects. Her desk was covered in enrollment forms, benefits packets, and the little orange pills she took every morning—her daily vitamin D supplement, the only thing keeping her sane through another Chicago winter without sunlight.

The email notification pinged. Another meeting about synergy.

She adjusted her beret—a vintage black hat she'd found at a thrift store, her small rebellion against the corporate dress code—and headed to the conference room. The HDMI cable that connected her laptop to the projector always seemed to have a mind of its own, a finicky snake that refused to cooperate when she needed it most.

"We need to leverage our wellness initiatives," David from HR was saying, his PowerPoint slides filled with stock photos of happy people doing yoga on beaches. Maria thought about the bottle of orange juice in her backpack, purchased from the vending machine that morning. It had cost her three dollars.

"Maria?" David was looking at her. "Your thoughts on the new mindfulness app?"

She cleared her throat. "I think it's great. Anything that helps people feel supported."

What she meant was: I think you're trying to fix burnout with an app while we're all working unpaid overtime. What she said was what they wanted to hear.

Later, in the breakroom, she ran into Julian from Accounting. He was wearing that ridiculous baseball hat he always wore, even indoors.

"You look like you need this," he said, sliding an orange toward her. It was the fresh kind, with a thick peel that smelled like summer. "My kid's obsessed with soccer practice. I have, like, forty of these at home."

"Thanks." She weighed it in her hand, its unexpected heaviness.

"Hey," Julian said, "there's a spot opening up in my department. Less... interaction."

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead.

"Maybe," Maria said. "For now, I'm just trying to remember my vitamins."

They both laughed, and for a moment, the fluorescent lights didn't seem so bright anymore.