Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33904527-20180410202237

This is the story of a man known as Barry Goodman. Barry worked at an office job where he was employee 475 and, all day, every day, he did nothing but push buttons. Orders would come through on a monitor telling him which buttons to push, when to push them, and how long to push them for. Barry had been working at this job for 27 years, and for those 27 years, Barry was happy.

Then one day something very strange happened. No orders were coming through on the monitor. No-one had shown up to work. Confused, Barry got up and walked out of his office…

All his co-workers were gone. What could this mean? Barry decided to go to the meeting room, perhaps he had simply missed a memo.

Barry glanced over at his co-worker’s desks. Writing apparatus, stationary, and personal items such as mugs and photos lay scattered over the tables. Where was everyone?

Barry walked down the corridors, occasionally looking through the darkened windows of the executive employee’s offices. Still, there was no sign of anybody.

When he finally got to the meeting room, Barry was horrified to find that once again, the room was completely empty. Shocked, Barry decided that the only available course of action was to go to his boss’s office.

Before he left, Barry gazed around the room one last time. The whiteboards at the sides of the room were filled with half-completed diagrams and graphs of the company’s profits. The projector was still shining a presentation onto the wall at the opposite end of the room. There was a large table in the middle of the room, with many chairs, all neatly tucked in.

Barry made his way up the stairs, and along another corridor, to turn left directly into his boss’s office.

After politely shutting the double doors behind him, Barry was yet again terribly surprised by the absence of even his boss. The room he was in was very large, and grand, with abstract paintings hung up on the clean walls, and a quality wooden floor beneath his grubby shoes, a huge step up from the small, dusty room he worked in.

That was it, Barry thought to himself. There was only one course of action. He would have to---but wait, what was this? There was an open doorway near the back of the office, behind the desk. Maybe this was where everybody went! Yes, that must be it. All Barry would have to do was walk through the doorway, and he would never have to be alone again.

As Barry strolled down the hallway behind the doorway, he allowed himself to stop and think for a second. He had so many questions: Where was everybody? Where was his boss? And, come to think of it, what did the company that he worked for actually do? It baffled him immensely that through all these years working here, he couldn’t even remember the company’s name.

Then Barry let himself dive even deeper into thought, and ask more questions about his life, like: Where am I in the world? Do I have a wife, or any children? Why do I push buttons all day, and what do they do? Why am I so happy with such a boring, soul-destroying job? The fact that Barry could not recollect such simple facts about himself was mind-boggling.

But the most mind-boggling question of all was: Why is there a voice in my head that is describing everything that I am doing and saying? Barry pondered this for a while. I’m talking about how the voice is describing me talking about how the voice is describing me! How very strange!

Then, Barry came to a simple realisation: I’m dreaming! He exclaimed loudly. That would explain everything! The missing co-workers, the voice, the amnesia. Barry stopped walking and let out a deep sigh of relief. He had been so worried! Now he could wake up, and everything could go back to normal again. He could get up, go to work and live out his happy life of pushing buttons.

Barry gently closed his eyes. I am real. He said. I am happy. I want to go back to work and continue my job in peace. My name is Barry Goodman, and I. Am. Real.

Barry opened his eyes.

He was still in the corridor.

Barry began to scream.

Someone help me! I must be real! My name is Barry! I have a job! I have a life! I have friends, and colleagues, and a boss! I must be real! Help me! SOMEONE TELL ME I AM REAL!

And then everything went black.

This is the story of a woman known as Sarah Barks. On her way to work, Sarah’s usual morning commute was interrupted by a man walking down the street, talking and screaming to himself. Finally, the man collapsed dead right in front of her. But before turning to go and call an ambulance, Sarah was grateful for the beautiful gift of sanity that she had. This man was clearly insane, there was no doubt about that, but Sarah knew that she existed. She was real. She had friends, and colleagues, and a boss. She existed, and was perfectly sane. Then Sarah remembered about her job. The expectations that people had of her, and the viewpoints that would affect her job, and by extension, the rest of her life. If she was late to work, then she could be fired. So, Sarah turned, and ran. 