I stood in the empty office on an early Friday morning without a shadow of a human being. Listening closely, I heard almost nothing but the thumping of my own heartbeats and the buzzing of a running machine. I began to appreciate the motionlessness in the place and enjoyed the tranquil view of the hidden office. I realized that I had mistakenly stepped into the wrong office. Standing behind the squeaky glass door, I remained still at the door like a streetlight, perceiving the fragrance of an early misty morning. My eyes traveled along the narrow pathway to the wide opened door to another office in front of me where I intended to go. I lingered at the white and newly painted wall on the right. The white reticulated square ceiling was tiled with thousands of tiny holes just like the home of a thousand ants. I saw white brightly lights that were newly installed. Beneath me, the carpet was banded and dotted with microscopic blue, purple, pink, green, and white-mixed colors. The carpet was not dirty or spotted with liquid stains. I looked at the small red cylinder fire extinguisher hanging on the wall, a short small brown table, and a long smooth beige counter on the right covered with colorful flyers and application forms. My eyes crossed to the left where a white plain rectangular board, almost as white as the wall and at its bottom, protruded with creamy light switches. Next to the long and stretched opaque shelves were hundreds of tiny mail slots without name tabs; next to them located a huge gray trash can with clear white empty trash bags hanging droopingly its side. As my eyes traveled down along the left of the room, I discovered a white wooden door with a glass window extending from left to right, and from the top to halfway to the door, which led to a small-cleaned odorless, quiet office. Next to the office was located a nailed small gray contoured bulletin board which was empty except for the colorful pins. The ...
