Signs and Signals

            As Randy walked down that drab hallway, the same kind that always seems to be found in every soulless corporate building, he looked for suite # 308.  Those aren’t just my footsteps, he thought to himself. Without warning, Randy spun around as quickly as he could, yet he found no one following him.  With a dejected sigh, Randy turned back around, and started looking for 318 again, or was it 308?  He pulled his wallet out, and checked Dr. Phellance’s card for what seemed like the 30^th time.  “308, should have known.” He said to himself. 

            He found the right room, and cracked the door to see who was inside.  There was only who seemed to be a secretary behind a phone and computer, closed off yet possibly alert to everything at the same time. Secretaries were like that; Randy didn’t know how they did it.  Randy had a hard enough time paying attention to the world around him as it was, he didn’t know how he’d do with two attention sucking electronic devices near his face, but they managed it well enough, didn’t they?  Steeling himself, Randy entered the office and walked up to the secretary.

            “Hello, sir. What can I help you with?”

            “HAH- I mean… I’m here to see Dr. Phellance. My appointment is in a few minutes.”

            I need to not crack in front of her like that, Randy thought to himself. She carried on as if nothing had happened, though.  “You’re Mr. Eidleson?”

            “So far, yes.”

            “Have a seat, and Dr. Phellance will be with you shortly.”

            She was right, Dr. Phellance was short.  At first glance, Randy thought that the doctor was one of Them, but he contained himself long enough to realize he was wrong.  She beckoned him into the inner room, and Randy meekly got up, smoothed his shirt, and followed the doctor in. 

            Without invitation, he sat down on the chair that looked like it wasn’t Dr. Phellance’s.  Psychologists always have those semi-professional looking chairs. They think that’ll catch their clients off guard somehow.  Never seemed to work, though. Without further ado, the session started.

            “Hello, Mr. Eidleson.”

            “Please, call me Randy.”

            “Alright, Randy-“ there were then distinctive sounds of scribbling on a clipboard, “You have quite the interesting file.  Tell me, before this whole incident began, was there anything that seemed strange to you? Any triggers or signs?”

            “Oh yes.” Randy said, a haunted look suddenly inhabiting his eyes. “The signals were everywhere. If I had only paid attention, I could have saved everyone.  I didn’t know, though. Why they paid for my mistake, I don’t know…”