Paint

They moved some walls. Painted others. There’s creativity in the hallways. Look, by the elevator… How cool is that?

But why is it so quiet? Why aren’t we a buzzing beehive making award-winning honey?

Shall I tell you, boys and girls? Do I even need to?

You know that crazy old lady in a miniskirt with too much makeup? Not the actual person but the idea of her. She’s decrepit and dying but doesn’t see it. She has a memory of herself, young and beautiful, desired by many suitors.

Alas, she’s delusional.

Just like us.