It’s like sitting in a drum. You can hear yourself whisper. Everything you say under your breath, something derogatory about someone or even something you’re really hoping for, everything comes back at you, louder and more aggressive.

My temples feel warm. The fluids inside my head are making guttural sounds. I have sneezed four times in the past hour. The people around me turn their heads in my direction every time I sneeze. I say, “Excuse me.” and then they look away. It’s an obligation.

The whole floor is cold. Not a regular air-conditioning-gone-crazy cold. It’s like being in a different country. I stick my hands under the laptop, hoping that the weird computer heat will help me regain some feeling in my fingers.

The drum feeling returns. The people here seem to hear my every move. If I tear open a toffee wrapper, heads swivel. If I unlock my phone, they turn to look. My phone doesn’t even make any sounds. It’s like sitting in the midst of very well trained dogs.

In the evening, I pack my things as quietly as one can. The person opposite my desk, who I can’t even see from my current position, says, “You’re leaving?” It’s begins to border on eerie.
I leave the building quickly. I sneeze a few more times and turn around and say “Excuse me.” I am pretty sure the people have heard me, even if they’re far away.