Office with a View
The dynamics of responsibility

Sal's been promoted to Chief of Programmes and Head of Managerial Tasks. He has a brand new office at the far side of the building, on the top floor with a view of the entire city. It's got oak-clad walls decorated with geometric prints, and a little coffee machine with those shiny pod things. He's even got a key to the executive toilet. No one to disturb him from his new responsibilities. It's 9 a.m. Odd; his calendar's empty. He walks down to the second floor, drawn by the perfumed grind of coffee beans where collared shirts and pencil skirts swing to telephone rings and the swish of copier machines, weaving the gabardine of institutional responsibilities. Oh, how Sal misses his cubicle days. To be among this engine of progress. The buzz, the laughter, the stress. They had fun back then. If only the kids appreciated the magic in responsibility. Why, there’s Sal's old mate Mark. It’s been a while since they’ve talked. Poor Mark; it can't be easy to see his pal move up in the world while he's still languishing about. Few have what it takes: the gumption, the guts, the thrill of the high stakes that makes one haul ass up the great ladder of responsibilities. Mark's surrounded by the team – Lily, Sana, Paulina and Neil. Sal interrupts their morning gasbag. "How are you all doing?", and finds himself in the rhythm of a familiar conversation: Oh, it's hectic, reporting season always is, and the systems are still broken, and the processes keep getting in the way. Sal promises to escalate their concerns, now that he's a man of importance, and dutifully, the crew return to their screens. But Sal lingers. "Mark, would you like a hand with that board presentation?" Mark shakes his head. "I can't ask you to help, old friend. Not with all your new responsibilities." 2.30 p.m. Sal has read all there is on the company's finances. He’s made charts and animations, used fonts in the colours of persuasion. He sends his slide pack to all the higher-ups; copies Mark into the conversation. He'll be so impressed. Mark would've taken ages to come up with all this. But that's the kind of guy Sal is – the kind who takes responsibility.



Very cool…”He walks down to the second floor,
drawn by the perfumed grind of coffee beans
where collared shirts and pencil skirts swing
to telephone rings and the swish of copier machines,
weaving the gabardine of institutional responsibilities.” I love how this section is like a song in its clicks and rhymes. I also like the background feeling in this piece of loneliness and emptiness, inside the work machine. Thanks for your writing Apra! Judi