The Dead Season
The office fluorescents buzzed like dying insects. Elena stared at her spreadsheet, cell after cell of meaningless data, feeling herself drift into that familiar state — the corporate zombie mode where her body remained anchored to the ergonomic chair but her mind had already clocked out three hours ago.
"You coming to padel tonight?" Marcus leaned against her cubicle wall, energy drink in hand. His orange polo shirt was aggressively bright against the beige corporate palette.
"Can't," she said, though the truth was she simply couldn't stomach one more evening of forced camarathons with people she'd spent all day pretending to care about. "I promised Cooper I'd take him swimming."
Marcus's expression flickered — barely a microsecond of judgment — before he recovered. "Right. The dog. Sure."
Cooper wasn't just her dog anymore. Since the divorce, he was her household, her family, her reason to return to an apartment that had grown too large for one person. At the lake, they fell into their ritual: Elena stripping down to her suit, Cooper bouncing with the kind of joy she'd forgotten how to access.
She plunged into the water, the cold shocking her awake. This was the only time she felt real anymore — suspended in that blue-gray space where nothing was expected of her, where spreadsheets and performance reviews and the performative happiness of office culture couldn't reach her. Cooper paddled beside her, his golden fur darkening in the water, and for a moment she felt something like peace.
They walked home as the sun set, the sky burning that impossible orange between day and dark, the color of things ending and beginning all at once. Cooper shook himself off, spraying water everywhere, and Elena laughed — actually laughed, a sound that surprised them both.
Inside, she stared at her phone. Marcus had messaged: "Rescheduled for Thursday? We really need to discuss the Q3 projections."
She put the phone face down, ran her hand through Cooper's damp fur, and turned on the kettle. The zombie could wait until tomorrow.