My Government-Sanctioned Office

I sit alone in my government-sanctioned office in the federal court. The halls of the building seem lonely. Judge Multiman has resigned to chase a new office. He left in such a hurry that his name is still on the door. Judge Muggy is on an LOA and will stay that way for maybe another week, maybe more. Our neighbors in the Supreme and District courts are on Administrative leave, so their offices are empty.

I am on administrative leave as well, meaning there is nothing to do to pass the time. I can't preside over cases, do legal research, or write decisions. I still collect my $65 UBI payments, which is nice even though I am not earning them. The only thing keeping me company in my office is the architecture, comprised mostly of quartz and dark oak. Also, the 70+ shulkers of waffles I have accumulated. Yet it does not feel right to eat a waffle when there is not a pancake lover in the office across the hall to wince in pain at the sight.

The sound of the fireplace in my office, one place there by the DCT when designing it, is the only thing letting me know my game isn't frozen. The repeating sound of the crackling drills into my skull with its dullness. The lawyers and clients that would make up plaintiffs and defendants, the citizens that would stand in as witnesses, are all gone. The sounds of their words that formed argumentation and testimony have been left at home. The building does not even creak as I feel it, too, is on administrative leave.

The smell of the ink has dried. The ink that would be used to write our reasoning, concerns, and decisions has been bottled up and closeted for a day in the future that is yet to come. The words on the page that held the weight of the world go unwritten. The smell of old paper is left bound to its spine, as no one comes to pull the books off the library shelves in hopes of wisdom.

The sights in my office consist of my artwork. One of Hannibal Lecter stares into my soul, while another of Joker stares into the back of my skull. In front of me is a waffle that sits on my desk forever uneaten. Just past it is a book with the name "Verdict" left there by Judge Dartanboy. It lies there as a spite to the world, defying gravity by floating. I hope one day I can be as free as that book, ignoring the wishes of others by living without restriction.

I sit here in my government-sanctioned office while the government is on strike. Workers refuse to work while players refuse to play. The calm and mundane that the space drowns me in gives me the hope that a new day will turn. A brighter day. Until then, I will just be here, sitting in my government-sanctioned office.