I'd never seen the streets so quiet. The air so still. The sky so sleepy. It was as if the whole city had called the day off just because Borg Industries was closed.

I wasn't even supposed to be there.

But I was.

Never before had the back door sounded so squeaky. My heels clicked so loudly. The machines hummed so endlessly. The basement entry held only one person in its length.

"Good morning, Edmund!"

"Good morning, Miss Drew! Careful, the floor's a bit wet." I glanced over the room, finding the floor to have a bit of an extra shine. "What are you doing here? Building is closed this week for the renovation, remember?"

I walked over to the many rows of employee storage slots, all uncharacteristically empty. I placed my bag on my assigned ledge, at least one of the many squares now filled.

"I like coming in. gives me something to do with my day, and…" My thoughts trailed off as I pulled out my Borg Pad. "Well… I thought Mr. Borg might like the company."

"Well, that's awful nice of ya." The old man returned his focus to the floor once more, as I found my way over to the elevator.

"Have a nice morning, Edmund."

"You too, Miss Drew."

The elevator ride was one of the strangest parts of my day. Mr. Borg's offices are at the very top of the building, and though the elevators were fast, getting up a hundred stories takes no small bit of time. It was a pleasant moment I had to myself for a minute or two to think of whatever it is I would. Sometimes I would recall a list of tasks for the day, or plan where to go to lunch, but most of the time my head would just end up blank- staring at the columns of buttons, listening to the rhythmic beeps, and waiting for the doors to open.

And when they did, it was always the same.

"Good morning, Mr. Borg."

"Good morning, Drew."

"How are you doing this morning?"

"Oh, perfectly fine, thank you."

I smiled, walking towards him. He was sitting in front of the window, looking out at the city as he did most mornings. Today, though was gloomier than usual. Winter had been getting ever colder, and the sky ever hazier. Today, it was hard to spot anything much out the window, just an overcast sky without any clouds per se, but just a mushy haze that hung heavily in the air.

"Do you need my assistance with anything this morning?"

"You're not supposed to be here today, are you?" He turned his head to look at me.

"No, sir."

He smiled. "I'm glad you came."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, well. It just gets so quiet up here by myself." He turned to look out the window again. "Especially on days like today."

Mr. Borg seemed like a lonely man. He'd been this way ever since I started working here- ever since his daughter stopped working here. I've tried to be a friend to him, but he'll only let me get so close.

"So, what's on your schedule for today?"

"Oh, nothing much. No meetings, no events, nowhere to be. I'll probably just be at my desk for most of the day."

"Then I'll probably be at mine then." I was the only one who worked on the same floor as him. I had a small desk in the corner of the room, with my laptop and a few knick knacks. Even if we didn't speak a word to one another, it was nice having someone else in the room.

I sat down and started my computer, fiddling with a pen and sticky pad I kept next to my mouse pad. I would write words that came to mind as I was bored, and by the time work was over, I had a sticky note that captured the essence of that day. This morning was apparently something like this:

Empty, Foggy, Echos, Minutes, Climbing, Cold, Gray

Red?

"Oh!" Borg interrupted my thoughts. "There is one thing you should know."

I glanced up. "What's that?"

"My son is coming to visit tomorrow."