2006-08-04 || 4:10 p.m.

|| he doesn't really answer. ||

the woman in the office beside mine had a son around my age who died suddenly on the night of her first day of work here about a month ago. ever since then i tend to imagine him hanging around her office, thumbing through computer manuals and technology magazines. he must wander into my office every once in a while for a change of scenery. he sits in on my singing and furtive phone calls to my sister. he listens to the gossip that's told behind my closed door. sometimes it's about his mom. i get especially uncomfortable when it is, but today i asked him: "but did you listen to the way she was yelling at the IT guy? i know she's your mother and all, but come on."

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