A Nameless Person in an Empty Place

She felt nameless. It was an easy enough situation to slip into, watching the city slip by during her morning commute. She was as faceless, nameless, and insignificant as every other person on the hover bus. She was just another person dressed up in professional clothes, getting ready to step into her quiet, albeit stressful job, where she sat at a computer for most of the day.

It always bothered her how much her office looked like a medieval castle built out of black metal with ominous-looking lights around the windows and around the observation deck on the top floor. Some architect with bold ideas and too much time on their hands thought it would be a great way to make the building stick out in a citified business district full of geometric skyscrapers. Unfortunately, most locals just agreed that it looked like an anachronistic eyesore.

The hover bus pulled down L Street and she sighed to herself quietly. The soft hum of the bus’ engine was almost inaudible, making her sigh stand out. The weary commuters aboard abided by the unspoken rule of silence during morning rush hour, but she’d just broken the convention with the tiny transgression.

As the hover bus smoothly eased to a stop, the doors opened. They slid to the side in an instant and people started filing out. She walked just a few paces down the clean sidewalk until she reached the ridiculous little bridge that led up to the even more ridiculous tower-like building. The bridge was designed like some medieval thing made out of stone, but it was black metal, just like the building. It had strips of lights glowing along the pathway to illuminate it with a soft, blue light. Everything about her place of work was bizarrely designed.

Worse yet, the bridge went over a mote. Not a pleasant reflecting pond or lake, but a mote in the middle of the business district. She supposed the hiring manual boasted of it being an artificial stream, touting that natural beauty was excellent for employee mental health. But she'd forever call it a mote.

She glanced at the custodians fishing trash out of it with sincere sympathy. The brilliant architect who designed the eyesore hadn’t considered the logistical unpleasantries of having a mote at the edge of a property in a busy city. Though it was clean by the standard that could be given to a city, trash still regularly made its way into the ill-conceived modern mote.

The worst part is that of all social services her employer could provide, they were a law firm. A law firm in a castle-like eyesore. She thanked her lucky stars that she was just a temp and that she wouldn’t need to return there every day for too much longer.

Out of all the places in the world where she could have worked, the people who worked at the law firm were just as eccentric as the exterior of the building. As soon as she entered the reception area, the bright lights angled awkwardly to point at the doors half-blinded her. They made her shadow stretch four times the length of her body.

She was on her second week of the three-month contract, so she knew enough to avert her eyes from the uncomfortable brightness. Her eyes strayed down to where a large screen displayed the date. It was January 11th, 2111. It sounded like a lucky date, but with the way days and weeks blended together when working at a corporate job, it didn’t feel as lucky as the numbers tried to imply.

The security guard, dressed in a well-pressed black and purple uniform, waved at her. She forced herself to smile and wave back.

“Good morning, Miss Temporary Secretary,” the woman said cheerfully.

“Morning,” she said with a pinched smile.

She was fairly certain the eyesore castle’s security guard didn’t remember her name. Or the woman was a very big fan of music from over a century ago — she’d ended up searching “temporary secretary” and discovered it was a song by someone named Paul McCartney. She knew enough to research the song and discover the song writer’s name. But as she walked toward the elevator bank, she was reminded of just how nameless she was.

~~~

Author's Note: This short story was inspired by one of the most unique prompts I’ve ever worked with—story cubes. This was a fun ideation tool that lends itself brilliantly to creative writing. I’m surprised to admit that I’ve never heard of it before; after all, I’m always looking for new creative writing prompt generators.

My goal was to incorporate all of the above elements into a short story. Since so many of the elements here—the castle, the bridge, and the shadow—all seemed to lend themselves well to a fantasy setting. Since fantasy seemed like the more obvious conclusion, I wanted to twist it. I set out to challenge myself with a sci-fi setting