The man walked into his office, greeted by the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of a printer churning out reports. He approached his desk, a rather unremarkable piece of furniture nestled among a sea of identical cubicles.
He sat down, preparing for another day of routine tasks and predictable conversations. His boss ambled past him, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. The man looked up, offering a practiced smile.
"Morning, Mr. Jenkins," he said.
"Ah, morning," Mr. Jenkins replied, pausing for a moment. "Just wanted to remind you about that report we need for the meeting at 3 PM. Make sure it's on my desk by 2 PM, alright?"
The man nodded, a familiar sense of obligation settling in. "Of course, Mr. Jenkins. I'll have it to you before then."
Mr. Jenkins offered a curt nod before continuing on his way. The man turned his attention to his computer, clicking through spreadsheets and documents with an air of mechanical efficiency. The clock on the wall seemed to move at a snail's pace, each tick echoing through the office like a metronome.
As the day wore on, the man exchanged brief pleasantries with his coworkers and attended a series of uneventful meetings. The predictability of it all weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't help but think back to his encounter with a sentient cactus. For a moment, he allowed himself to smile at the memory.
In the end, the man completed his report and placed it on Mr. Jenkins' desk with a sense of quiet satisfaction. Another day at the office had come and gone.