Rewind

On Tuesday, I had a lunch date with two ex-colleagues and as my new office is a ten-minute walk from Coma HQ, I met them there. It was odd. I hadn't been there since last summer, but unfamiliar new faces apart, very little seemed to have changed. AFOS was still busy throwing out books of the library and transforming her room, my ex-room, into a dump. The wall in front of my desk still hadn't been painted and you could make out the shapes of the cards and posters I had put up.
The Serbian security guard, who used to serve me pastry on a plate every other morning, was dressed in a shiny new uniform, his tie decorated with a pin in the shape of handcuffs.