I DON’T GENERALLY leave the building much. There are too many people outside, and none of them count for anything. In here at least, people know my name.
It’s small and dusty, the furniture’s too old, and the paint peels off the walls. I feel pretty marginalised sometimes, up on the fifth floor. I deserve better than this poky attic.
I enjoy talking with the students, I know they laugh about the other staff, but they look at me differently. They know I’m someone to respect.
The whole building’s past its sell by date. Me and Jane laugh about it together. She’s the departmental secretary. When we talk we differ intellectually so much it makes me wince, but we still get on, in a way.
I like staying here at night. I wait in my office for everyone else to go home. Then I walk all around the department, and go into all the offices… I go and sit in all their chairs. Especially Filipetto’s; I stay in his for the longest.
I do a lot of dreaming. Not in an adolescent way though. I’ve got a lot to dream about. About when I finally get the respect I deserve around here. Then I’m moving downstairs. For good.