The sweat on his brow increased in density and gathered the inevitable momentum and began to roll off the horizontal surface of his forehead. The silent splashy sound it made when it hit the desk was evidence of the dark quiet that surrounded him.
He was lost; so far gone that not even the soft splash or the growing humidity in the office that gradually turned his shiny bald head into a magical sweat plantation was enough to jolt him from the maze inside his head. The ridiculous figures on the sheet he was so focused on stared back at him unrepentantly, daringly even.
“Where the hell I am going to get this money from?”
It was the recurrent question popping from various sections of his brain with lightning streak speed.
A sweaty drop finally found its way, meandering through the contours of his bearded face, to the side of his lips and the saltiness registered almost immediately. It was then that he realized that the power was out as he could no long hear the soft hum of the air-conditioner. The inverter must have kicked in without the usual dimming of the fluorescent light.
The windows were still locked and the atmosphere had changed fast from friendly to unfriendly – a testament to the scorching sun outside. A tear escaped his eyes and merged effortlessly with the sweat that was now pouring and had now formed a travel path from his bald head to his lips. He fought back the tears having realized he had lost it all. The bank took away his car this afternoon and the loan sharks would be out for him before long.
His eyes wandered to the tail of the yellow twine that escaped from the door of the store room. The ceiling fan whispered to him and that was all it took.