The Riddle of Dead Dreams

The corporate pyramid gleamed outside my office window, forty-two stories of glass reflecting the dying October light. I'd been climbing it for fifteen years, and somewhere along the way, I'd forgotten what I was climbing toward.

Emma sat on my desk, her calico fur warm against my cold hands. The only living thing that still saw me as something other than a resource to be optimized. She purred as I scratched behind her ears, her contentment a stark contrast to the hollow ache in my chest.

'You look like shit, Marcus,' Sarah said, leaning against my doorframe. We'd slept together three times last week, desperate and quiet in the supply closet after the midnight merger announcement. Now we were back to being colleagues who knew each other's bodies but not each other's hearts.

'The zombie recruitment meeting ran long,' I said, gesturing to the empty chair across from me. 'New hires. They all have the same eyes. Dead before they've even started.'

She laughed, but it was sharp and tired. 'We're all zombies, Marcus. Some of us just hide it better.'

The company's sphinx statue dominated the lobby—imported from Egypt at obscene cost, a symbol of wisdom and mystery. But wisdom wasn't what we sold. We sold the illusion of progress while cannibalizing our own future. The sphinx's riddle wasn't what walks on four legs in the morning. The riddle was how we'd convinced ourselves this was a life.

'The cat knows,' I said, watching Emma stretch. 'She watches me stare at spreadsheets until my eyes burn. She knows I'm dying by inches.'

Sarah crossed the room, her perfume familiar and devastating. She ran a finger along Emma's spine. 'Maybe she's waiting for you to finally scream.'

Outside, the pyramid glowed. Somewhere in its depths, new zombies were being processed, their dreams stripped away like excess baggage. Emma jumped into my lap, her weight anchoring me to something real.

'Scream,' I whispered. 'Or jump.'

'That's the riddle, isn't it?' Sarah said, and for a moment, her eyes weren't dead at all. 'What's the difference between falling and flying?'

Emma purred louder, as if she knew something we didn't. Outside, the pyramid waited. But inside, three hearts were still beating.