The Pyramid of Memory
Maya traced the lifeline on her palm, the crease deepening as she flexed her hand. Three years at Apex Corporation, and she couldn't decide if her future looked promising or if she was just reading too much into things.
"You're staring at your hand again," said Daniel, rolling his chair over. His desk boasted a single, lone goldfish in a bowl that was somehow always clean despite Daniel's chaotic work habits. "Bubbles is judging you."
"Bubbles is a fish. He lacks the cognitive capacity for judgment." Maya didn't look up. "Unlike our boss, who judges everything while understanding nothing."
Daniel laughed, then sobered. "The restructure rumors are getting worse. Heard anything?"
Maya's stomach tightened. "They're calling it 'the pyramid realignment.' Which is corporate speak for 'fire everyone at the base and keep the overlords at the top.'"
She thought about her apartment, the goldfish she'd bought on impulse during her first week in the city, now dead within a month. That fish had had more freedom than she felt now, swimming in endless circles while she swam in spreadsheets and performance reviews.
"I applied for a promotion," Daniel said quietly. "Team lead."
Maya's palm itched. She'd heard about the opening—more responsibility, marginal pay increase, and the privilege of managing terrified junior employees while hovering one tier above them on the pyramid.
"Do you want that?" she asked. "Really want it?"
Daniel stared at Bubbles, who swam to the glass, mouth opening and closing in silent repetition. "I want to not be expendable."
The email pinged at 4:47 PM. The pyramid realignment was real. Effective immediately. Maya read her name on the safe list, Daniel's on another.
Later, she passed his desk. The fish bowl was empty.
"Took him home," Daniel said, not looking up from packing his box. "Figured he deserved more space than this."
Maya stood there, palm against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of a heart that kept beating despite everything. "Good," she said. "That's good."
The next morning, she resigned.