Space to Breathe

It’s 10am in the Gazette offices and an office door is closed, a bright blue sticky note attached to the front: ‘On a break. Only disturb if I am needed (desperately).’ Inside: a beanbag, a cat, and an unconscious woman, slumped clumsily in a pile by a window, Sora emitting faint breaths and the occasional soft murmur. Every so often, her hands would spasm slightly; her expression would twist – confusion and panic in one moment, surprise or contentment the next. Rarer would she chuckle, so softly it would hardly disturb the warm stillness of the room. She’d still jolt awake from time to time, where she’d stare at her hands for a moment too long before drifting back to sleep.

The dark circles that so often framed her eyes seemed slightly lighter.

It’d been just a few weeks since the departure of Hafton as head of the economics department. Since then, with a bit of havoc, the void left in his place was eventually filled. Without much fanfare and with only a few conversations, Sora stepped up for the position, becoming the new department editor. She called everyone for a short meeting soon after, her first words: “Congrats everyone for making it through… everything. Now let’s write something worth surviving for.” She was a far cry from Hafton, encouraging creative expression and more independence from her team. She began having frequent check-ins into how things are going with everyone individually, and though they would sometimes feel off – the occasional slip up when she’d ask about a trip that never happened, or when she’d come back half an hour later and repeat the same questions ‘just to check’ – she always encouraged everyone to give their best. Her mood saw improvements too: less jittery, more focussed, though she never quite lost the laid-back attitude.

To the chagrin of the rest of the office, Miss Mocha, the office cat, had been unofficially adopted under the care of Sora. They were inseparable, the cat following Sora around like a mother corralling her child, all the while giving off faint purrs and trills, while Sora would go about her usual business, dipping to give scritches from time to time. It eventually reached the point where everyone decided it would be easier if they just got a new office cat, and so Miss Mocha became Coffee Bean, as Sora had always called her.

From time to time, Sora would jump over to the puzzles and fiction department. She’d write short stories, often framed around events that were – or could have been – happening around the office, and though they never quite gained much traction compared to her works for the economics department, Sora had never seemed happier with her writing. It was messy and uncertain, but it was hers. She could finally lean into the messy gap between facts and fiction, and she’d never been more confident.

Sora was doing good work.

She could finally rest.

Written by Cali