1. Into the Arms of Midnight

Into the arms of midnight, I go again. This magic time of day, the only hour I felt still belonged to me. An hour where decisions were mine, more than other hours could aspire. I did not often fully enjoy it. The next day always came calling quickly, the previous day always weighed heavily. In all this, I was never truly free, not even in the arms of midnight. The past always held me back, the future always loomed ahead. But for one hour a day, I felt like I had some semblance of control over my life.

The day had passed so quickly, I had barely noticed the sky turning dark blue outside my office window. I glanced at the digital clock of my computer. 11 p.m., it showed. I did not frown. Such working hours had become common for me in recent years. At first, I had fought against it; I raised complaints, left early, became a nuisance… but the company knew I had no choice. Finding a new job in this economy, it was not an easy task - especially for a man of my age. So, after a few years, I finally gave up all resistance. I accepted my new life; I moved forward, still starting early, now working late. People always spoke well of my work; the higher-ups commended me for my endurance, for my resilience… But their words always came hollow. They were but an acknowledgement, not honest appreciation. “We know it’s not fair, but we are glad you are accepting it.” What choice did I have? It was clear to me that I had nowhere to go. I didn’t have the standing to advance into a more aspirational position, I barely had their respect as a human being. So, I remained where I was, always moving yet staying motionless.

I glanced at the clock again. 11:15. I could leave now. My dues were done for the day. I rose from the hard comfort of my black office chair like a creature of the ancient past arising from slumber eons. Another man perhaps would have jumped to vacate this place at his first chance. I had nowhere to go. Nowhere but Midnight. I lifted my bag from the floor and placed it on my chair with a heavy sigh. I picked up my “Best something in the world”-cup and stowed it securely in my bag. Some of the words had been washed off by the passing of the last ten years and were barely readable. I took my pencils and my sheets as well. The company had made it clear that I was not to leave anything at my desk at any time. Yes, this was my office, but really it belonged to the company. They reminded me of this at any chance they got. I logged out of the workstation. The comforting blue goodbye screen greeted me and lingered for a few moments, illuminating my face in the dark confines of my office. The device played a short, pleasant sound. Then all the lights went off and the device lay still. The only source of light was now the cold burn of the fluorescent tubes from the hallway. I rested in the darkness, for only one moment. Then I turned and picked up the picture frame from my desk. I wanted to hold it, press it against my chest dearly. I wanted to cry “This is all for you”. I didn’t. I was too tired. I stared at the picture for a few seconds, then I stowed it away safely in my bag, next to the cup, the sheets, and my pencils.

I don’t know if I would have wanted to cry. Perhaps a few years ago I would have shed a tear. Now I was not sure if I couldn’t cry or if I just didn’t want to. I stepped out of my office and strolled through the gleaming hallway, past the dusty copy-printer, past the break room. It was empty. There was no one there. Of course not. They didn’t care. They had places to be. Every now and then one of them was fired and then they started to care again. At those times some would even stay until 10 to prove their work ethic. But then after a week it was back to business as usual. They didn’t care anymore. What do I know?

As I strolled through the hallway, I did not hasten. I could have sprinted from one end to the other; I had the tempo in me still. I had always been a fast runner, back in school I was among the fastest. My parents had always urged me to become an athlete. But then again, they had always supported every decision I had ever made. I had thought about becoming a runner back then. But I had never seen a future in that. Instead, back then I decided to play it safe. I had had other plans, aspirations. Maybe I should have run when I had the chance. Now, so many years later, I had no reason to run. And so, I walked slowly through the hallway. 11:30 p.m. I adjusted the collar of my shirt slightly. It was too tight. Always had been. I’m not sure why I even bought it in the first place. Finally, I reached the elevator at the end of the hallway.

I stood in front of the silver-grayish elevator doors, took a deep breath and pressed the cold silver-grayish button labelled with a black, slightly worn, downward-pointing arrow. The button’s socket began to glow in a weak eggshell tone. I stood in front of the elevator motionless, breathing softly. My mind was empty, tired from a hard day of work. The only sound came from the elevator cabin slowly climbing up the shaft. Finally, it reached my floor. The heavy elevator doors slowly drifted open. The glow inside the cabin slowly unveiled itself to me. I took in the sight with deep breaths. The doors had now opened completely. A soft “ding” announced that the elevator cabin was ready for me to enter. I stood there, unmoving. I looked at my reflection in the mirror placed on the opposite wall of the elevator cabin. A man stared back at me whom I did not recognize. He was pale, breathing heavily. His hair was balding, his nose slightly crooked. His smile was weak, broken. I wanted to shed a tear, not for me but for him. I couldn’t.

The elevator doors slowly began to close again. The image of the man before me disappeared behind the heavy grayish doors. I remained still for a few minutes. My mind was racing with thoughts, but I could not hear them. They were above me and below me, I saw their shadows form in my head, but I could not grasp them. My head was heavy, but I couldn’t feel the weight. I stood there, in silence, unmoving. My bag rested heavily on my shoulder as I stared at the grayish door in silence. I did not dare move. My mind was racing. But then it slowed down. My breathing became slower as well. I carefully glanced at my watch. 11:45 p.m. Almost midnight. My hour of control. I looked up again at the silver elevator doors. I raised my head and pressed the elevator button. The button’s socket began to glow with a white shine. The elevator doors opened slowly and heavily as if they were stone gates of massive stature holding behind them the sanctity of a temple. The bright glow of the cabin illuminated my mien as the hallway behind me fell dark. In the mirror, I saw a shadow before me, a silhouette whose owner I could not name. It stood before me with little motion. It had no face, no features, just shape. It watched me as I entered the cabin with sure steps. I turned to face the control panel and chose the floor. The heavy silver elevator doors closed to the right of me while the shadowy figure on my left slowly sank into the floor. I turned my face to the mirror, searching for it. It was only me in the cabin now. That was alright. It didn’t bother me now. The elevator began to move slowly. I felt its pull, and a sense of bliss came over me. 11:55 p.m. My look lingered on the numbers on my watch until the soft “ding” of the elevator cabin notified me of my arrival. I was almost there. I stepped out of the cabin and left its bright glow behind me. I walked through the door in front of me and stepped outside. The cold air of the night filled my lungs rejuvenatingly. I took several deep breaths as I slowly walked forward. The air was cold, ice cold. I had begun to freeze the moment I had stepped outside. I felt goosebumps on my chest and arms, my shirt providing no ample protection against the shivering embrace of the night. But I smiled as I felt the cold creeping up to my neck and further to my head. A cloud of steam followed each deep breath from my mouth, dispersing momentarily. I took a few more steps forward to the edge of the roof and looked down at the thousands of bright lights illuminating the city below me.

As I reached the ledge, I placed my bag to my right against a steady brick wall. I slowly tilted my head upwards and looked into the sky, but the night was cloudy. I saw no stars. I now slowly tilted my head downwards, taking in the glistening beauty of the city beneath me. Every single light was a sign of life, a sign of meaning, a radiant glow illuminating the quiet of the night sky. As I stood there gazing at the beauty before me, I felt something that I had not felt in many years: For one moment, I felt freedom. I climbed up onto the small ledge in front of me to get a better view of the lights. I looked down and stared at the streets shining with bright orange light below me. I raised my head and stared into the distance, watching the splendor of skyscrapers shimmering like diamonds against the dark of the night. In that moment, as I watched the sparkling majesty of the city below me sprawl towards the horizon, I shed a single tear. Then my watch gave a soft beep, a reminder I had set many years ago that had notified me faithfully every day since then when it was finally 12 a.m.

As the quiet bustling of the world below me slowly seemed to die away, I shed another tear and then I stepped ahead and let myself fall – into the arms of midnight.