The offices are all empty now, but they remember. People think ghosts happen because something emotionally impactful occurred in a space, and it leaves a mark. But really the opposite is true, because most emotionally impactful things only happen once, and it isn’t enough for something to happen once. Mundane, repetitive tasks are the ones that stick over time. People going to a building every day and doing the same things over and over.
No-one goes to these places now except people like me. These buildings have all been left to rot. I don’t mean the ones in the city centres: they’ve all been converted into apartments and things like that. You probably live in one. No, I mean the ones in business parks, out of town, in the rewilded spaces. People used to drive to places like this, but the roads aren’t even maintained any more. They should knock the buildings down really, but obviously I’m glad they haven’t.
You won’t be able to see them straight away. You have to stay here a little while and tune into it. But over there, first thing in the morning, you can see some insubstantial figures: those are the heads of department having a strategy meeting. They nearly always sat in the same chairs, the way people do: they arbitrarily picked a seat the first time they went to a meeting in that room and then that was their seat. And now they’re there forever, or something of them is.
There’s the guy who comes round with the post trolley, the same route around the desks every day, the optimal path, he worked it out and stuck to it. And the guy who always hangs around that spot by the dividing wall, like he’s trying to think of something to say. Probably that was the desk of someone he fancied. Probably they thought he was a pest. Whoever they were they didn’t stick, there’s no sign of them. A shame. I’d love to know what they were like.
The one I always visit is the young woman in the stockroom, where they kept the supplies. All the supplies were cleared out when the office was abandoned but they left the stool behind, the one they used to use to reach the high shelves, and she sits on it, playing games on her phone, hoping no-one finds her and tells her to do some work. They never will now.
I don’t even know if these people are dead. These aren’t spirits, they’re just echoes. But they must be pretty old by now.
Intriguing!
Really love this one Eddie!