Alan
I arrived at the office and went straight through the mahogany double doors with a spring in my step that hadn't been there in over a decade.
I found myself humming a low, melodic tune that felt foreign yet right.
It was as if a heavy, suffocating shroud had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a buoyant, almost dizzying sense of satisfaction.
As I walked toward my desk, I noticed Sarah, my secretary of fifteen years, pausing mid-sentence as she spoke into her headset.
Her eyes widened behind her spectacles, tracking my progress across the carpet. Beside her, Joseph, my personal assistant, stood frozen with a stack of documents.
"Good morning, Sarah, Joseph," I said, my voice resonating with a clarity that surprised even me.
I offered them a genuine, albeit brief, smi
