My eyes hurt by 3pm. Gray, dystopian walls with a slight green cast cause by the florescent light above. The gray wavers in my field of vision, as I rub my eyes. The texture of multiple shades of gray adding into nothingness. Nothing offensive, nothing new and nothing original. Cookie cutter fabric for a cookie cutter job.
In rebellion to the implied rule against decoration are two objects: a glitter-encrusted, lime green card covered in butterflies and a name badge from HR training identifying me as “Sparkle,” a nonofficial nickname.
These are the walls I stare at everyday.