8 hours and 37 min...

The elevator was a stifling combination of two o’clock coffees, of printer paper and ink, of bodies unwashed since the morning, of gas and bad breath, of perfume, of hair products. You’d think the gas was the worst of them, but it was the way the smell became warm, thickening the air.

In the hot stench, we crawled down. Despite being congested, I could still see the ground looming closer, the sky widening above us. The chatter, soft and breathy, drowned out the smooth grind of the gears and made it somehow feel normal.

Why was it normal for everyone else? Was I the only one that had trouble with that day? Did Jeri wake up tangled up in her bed sheets, sweaty and cold all at the same time? Not that I had…

The elevator doors opened on my floor.

The hall, glossy and serene, stretched out before me. I was in no hurry to return to the office, to face Karen’s punitive gaze, or Luke’s apologetic eyes, or Daniel’s flicker of annoyance. I followed the bend in the hall and almost ran into the janitor.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and walked around the cleaning cart.

By way of apology, he popped out a headphone and nodded at me. “ ‘S ok,” he said and smiled.

It was an earnest, care free sort of smile.

It made me wish that I was a janitor. I could cinch in the blue overalls to give myself a waistline, wear a cute headband, and just clean. Wipe down the window. Sweep the floors. Mop the floors. Gather the trashbags. I could listen to music and podcasts and then just go home and not think about Sandra Mingle, first zombie specialist.

I flicked my ID badge.

“Want one?” he asked, holding out a plastic bag.

“Huh?”

“Gummy worms,” he said and smiled.

“What?” I asked and took a tiny step backwards. I looked around. Was there a hidden camera? I mean there were security ones in the corners. But were there secret-secret cameras? Was I going to go viral again because I ate a gummy worm?

“What’s in them?” I asked.

He frowned. “Sugar, I think. I like the sour ones. They’re softer,” he explained and then popped one in his mouth. “Want one?” he repeated and held out the bag.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Thanks.”

He looked confused and studied the gummy worms. “Ok then,” he said and placed the bag on the cleaning cart.

I didn’t need soft gummy worms covered in sugar. I mean, yes, they were soft and pink and orange and split in the middle so that you got both flavors.

My mouth watered--

No--I’ve been training for this, haven’t I? I just had to remember my will power and where to tap on my wrist to release this craving. Was it the thumb-pad? Or the inner wrist? Better tap all around the hand I think, just to be safe!

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“What are you doing?” he asked and gestured with his chin at me.

“Nothing,” I said and dropped my hands. “So. Why gummies?” I asked and stared at the Janitor. Would he say it? Would he say they were for survival, the way Ileum had claimed?

The janitor paused and smiled, “Sugar craving, mostly,” he said. Then he went back to wiping the enormous bank of windows even though they looked so clean, so clear I was sure I could reach out and touch the air outside.

I snuck a gummy worm out of the bag, shoved it in my mouth. Maybe my imagination was playing tricks on me, but I was pretty sure he smiled at my reflection. I would swear later I felt his smile chase after me as I hurried down the hall.

My heart pounded so loud I could hear my pulse in my ears. I paused, gathered my breath, and then walked into the office space.