I am Sita. A perfectly normal human being. Every single day, I wake up, wash my face, clean my mouth, cleanse my body, free my self from the dust and dirt of yesterday.
In the office, I sit and process meaningless words and numbers in my head, then I make my machine process them. I print them on hundreds of cut trees thoughtlessly. It’s work. I function like a more sensitive, more emotional, more erratic version of the computer. I cry about this monotonous life on the way home, while in the tube or a bus. Such is my life.
Then came him one day. His desk was right in front of mine which gave me a little motivation to go to my miserable workplace everyday. He became an incentive, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I became the foolish girl running after a wild horse. I was destined to get trampled on and I didn’t care. It was exciting to me to finally put something at risk. Such is my life.
The inevitable happened and I was more or less unsurprised. He left the dismal place and moved on to greener pastures while I stayed behind, like I had a choice, and wallowed in my sadness.
In the office, I sit and process these stupid words and numbers in my head. I am full of them—stupidity and meaninglessness. I print them without a care in the world on hundreds of unfortunate trees. It’s work, as usual.
Then I remember him. I stare at his old desk, now occupied by a woman twice my size but with half my patience and none of his appeal. The tears run down my face, forming a tiny waterfall. I wipe it away, afraid to get the papers wet.
Such is my life.