For several days in a row, a large man hand has appeared over my cubicle wall. I hear a woman’s indiscernible voice and then I hear the man tell the woman that I have “soft walls.”
Sometimes he raps lightly on the walls, but each time he seems increasingly upset about their softness. I can hear him repeating dimensions – 4 feet, 8 feet, etc., and then the man hand disappears and the couple move on down the hallway.
Today, the hand had a finger cast on it.
This is very disturbing to me.
Minutes ago I resisted the urge to ask the broken hand about the plans he’s making for my soft walls.
I decided instead to take down Dennis’ artwork and I am preparing little Jenny Lopez-Shie for the worst.
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