Working on something...

Still very much in the writing process with this, but I'm hoping it'll keep coming together as well as it has been so far...this pique your interest?

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The building was non-descript; a two story structure with cream-colored walls and kaleidoscopic carpets that swallowed all sounds, making it as quiet as a library. Signs with arrows pointing up the stars or down the hall filled the need for a receptionist, and despite the windows showing the snow falling outside, it was overly warm inside thanks to the combination of the heater and sunlight. There were eight offices total in the building, half of which were vacant, if the signs were to be believed. It wasn’t a place designed for foot traffic, nor for people looking to kill some time.

If there was a purgatory, Ridley thought, it was probably like this.

He’d learned about purgatory in Catholic school, which hadn’t effectively scared him in salvation, much to his family’s chagrin. Ridley was quiet, a bit of a loner, and his new habit of vaping had him constantly wandering off in search of solitude so he could puff without judgment. That was why he’d just ditched his dad and was now wandering around the quiet, beige building. It still managed to be more interesting than his dad talking to their accountant, an appointment Ridley got roped into because of the grocery shopping he needed to help with afterward.

A text pinged his phone: “Hey, could use your help tonight. Do you want to work?”

Ridley ignored it. Even though he could use the cash, the four hours spent on his feet didn’t feel worth it. Graduating a semester early from high school seemed like a great move; he didn’t care about going and it felt good to just get the diploma and move on. But it turned out he didn’t like working either, or at least didn’t like washing dishes at a nursing home. This boring office building held no allure either - he couldn’t imagine spending every day in a place this generic. But he was going to have to figure something out, because unless he married well, he had about six more decades to worry about before he could retire.

Not to mention, he didn’t like to work. But he also got bored sitting around…

Ridley shoved his phone in his pocket and cleared his thoughts. Worrying was pointless. Things would work out. Somehow. Or he’d just be bored his whole life. That was a fun prospect. At least he was used to it by now.  Bored at home, bored at work, bored at school. And now, bored here.

He raised his vape to his mouth and opened the front door of the building, momentarily forgetting that it was snowing outside. One look was all he needed to close the door and retreat back to the warmth. He was always getting weird looks for vaping, so he wanted somewhere with no people around.

To kill time, he clomped back up to the second floor and looked out the large windows onto the snow. That was pretty - too bad it hadn’t come in time for Christmas, but it was still nice a month later.

On the left of the windows was a vacant office. There was a gold plate mounted on the door, blank as if waiting for a name to be engraved on it. Ridley rapped his knuckles on it, then cautiously opened the door when there was no response.

Inside was a small waiting area, he assumed, because there was a little desk like where receptionists sat at doctor’s offices with all the files behind them. But this one was unfurnished, the shelves free of folders. There was one chair against the wall, and then a second room past the reception desk that was fully empty.

“Perfect,” Ridley whispered, shutting the door behind him. He sat down in the one chair, took a drag off his vape, and started reading tweets on his phone. Ten minutes passed, and he sank into comfort, feeling sufficiently hidden from his dad and anyone else, just him and his vape and his-

“Hey there, young fella.”