The Office

A short story I felt I wanted to share. I wrote in a basic text editor, so it's likely full of typos! Please, I'm new to writing so please feel free to critique me, and don't pull any punches!

A howling wind blew through the office that night. Papers blew about the office in a flurry of now-misplaced office memos and finance ledgers. Not that it mattered. Surely if anyone were left to miss them, they've already missed them by now.

After an entire week in this hell-cube and that's the only thing that's happened of interest. Once you've read the various transactions for mundane office supplies for about eighty different clients, something like this is like Christmas. 

Wind continued to blow throughout the office, shoving a few pieces of it out the window and off into the purple-black endless void, the only thing you could see if you were to look out of said window. I sat there, in a trance, simply watching sheets fly around, until the air flow slowed down it's normal stillness.

Eventually, I just laid back down in my defacto bed of jackets and sweaters. The sudden rush of air out of nowhere was interesting, sure, but I had bigger problems on my mind. Miraculously, the electricity and plumbing are still working. I haven't got a clue how, but there were a lot of things that didn't make sense, and I could spare some suspension of disbelief for magical plumbing and electricity.

Even with electricity and a near infinite supply of sink water, however,  I'd nearly depleted my food supplies of lunches and snacks. With only a granola bar left, it'd be just a matter of time before I starve.

There's no more tears left to be had. In this week I've cried enough for a life time. No longer can I stand by while whatever the hell put me in here condemns me to a slow death through starvation.

I'm met with little resistance when I open the door that used to be the exit to the lower floors. No wind. No sound. Just the endless black expanse, filled with swirling colors of purple. 

Carefully, I reach my arm outside the door, not for the first time. Same as always. Whatever piece of my limb is outside, I can no longer feel nor control. Pulling it back, it's as if nothing ever happened to it. 

One deep breath later, I've closed my eyes and steeled my will.

And then I jump.

Author's Note

Totally new to writing, so please give me ideas on where I can improve, and maybe where I should start to do anything, haha. By all means, be brutal! I can take it.

Reviews

[Paul]

You'll be alright. Practice makes perfect. You're an on and on and on and on type, to me. You remind me of a pudding head secretary. You'll fit right in around here. Not that you're a mascot, or anything. Your content amuses me. Stick around. Don't be afraid to take your content out of the box and mess with it. I like how you tell it like it is from your perspective. Keep at it! You'll improve! Remember, it takes a few tries to get your content dialed in.