Entering our building always took me back to passing period in high school. Throngs filled the atrium to see and be seen. There were cliques, jocks and nerds having given way to Sports Marketing and IT. We even had bells, one at nine and a second at five, symbols of Doug’s control.
I started most mornings in the atrium. You learned things there: who was pregnant, whose marriage was failing, who was being promoted and who only thought they were.
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