The guy lazily escalated three floors on the staircase when he knew the overburdened elevator would take a good 5 minutes to take him to his desk. As he made his way to the ground floor for his usual post-lunch smoke, he left his lunch box upstairs in the pantry. He asked his colleague to take it down to his desk. So he could directly go down for his smoke.
He was right at the door that opened him to his floor when he realized he forgot his ID card that upon a wipe would let him in. He haughtily pushed the door, turned his head away from it in resentment. It was then his ears caught the pleasant creaking sound of the door opening. The door's swipe machine didn't work & it was like any other door then; not a door that led to corporate penitentiary anymore.
Days passed & his smoke breaks increased - both in count & duration. The swipe machine fail made the door a pathway to his liberty. Liberation from imposed confinement of corporate etiquette. He jollily swung it in & out to make his way in & out.
It was a bleak day when sun was lazily hiding behind the unseen curtains. Dusk was setting its scene. He swayed off the hovering mosquitoes over his head while he crushed his cigarette under his left foot. He made his way back to his desk and in habit, he pushed in the door without swiping. It didn't open. Through the glass that was encapsulated in the wooden borders of the door, he saw a carpenter holding a wired drilling machine in a brandished way. He realized that the swipe machine was fine & he had to take out his ID card from his wallet.
He swiped it, the door clung open & he trudged to his desk in melancholy.
