"A Hunch" by Arvee Fantilagan

​“Take the stairs,” I begged.
“Get some exercise.”
He laughed.
"I'm good!"
then pulled away,
probably creeped out
by the colleague who never talks,
suddenly gripping his hand.
 
But what else could I do?
Short of babbling
and reaching out for his face,
which I couldn’t even tell him,
existed no longer.
 
He walked away
in his white button-downs,
and empty space
above his neck,
waving at me as the doors closed.
“Enjoy your weekend!”
but I knew,
he won’t be coming in on Monday,
like everyone else
packed in that elevator,
going down together,
decapitated.
 
I rushed back to the office,
to the pantry,
to the sink--
to vomit
as loud as I could
so I don’t hear the crash.

---

Arvee Fantilagan was raised in the Philippines, lives in Japan, and can be found at sites.google.com/view/arveef. He hopes to write a better bio someday.