Thursday, January 14, 2010

Kafka and the client meeting.

K arrived at the office tower early. He stood before a grim uniformed guard, showed the requisite identification and was waved in through a gauntlet of electronic barriers. He turned slowly and walked step by step to a starkly lit bank of elevators.

Clank. The doors shut and K heard a computer-generated voice in-tone in distinctly non-human cadences "floor thir tee nine." Whoosh. The box came to a halt and the doors to the chamber opened once again.

K was met by yet another grim and uniformed guard. This one demanded K's state-issued identification card and gave him in exchange a magnetized laminate the would allow him access to the designated meeting room. K asked to use the bathroom. The guard pressed a button and permitted K to void.

K found his way to the meeting room before the others had arrived. He found a place to sit. He tried to adjust the position of his seat but the mechanisms in the chair allowed no maneuvering. K sat and waited. Minutes passed, the hands of the clock moved with an audible click. K noticed a giant video screen that showed a conference room in another city. People began filling that room. K could see them. He wondered if he was being watched.

The client arrived. K wondered when this would end.

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