He could feel the door close without him even making the effort. The familiar pain in his temples burned as he swept down the long, grey corridor that led to his cube. Even his teeth hurt with subdued rage. He turned the corner to his office and ran right into a human wall.

'Dammit,' Keith hissed, looking up at his obstacle. Mark Olson rocked back on his heels, reeling in his composure as well as a cluster of odd papers stuffed under his armpit.

'Mr. Erickson?' Mark stuttered. 'I am so sorry. I was just leaving you a memo about the Operatio account.'

Keith waved him off. 'I'll call them this week,' he said.