The dim desk lamp cast long shadows across Thomas Chen’s face as he hunched over financial reports well past midnight. Twenty stories above the gleaming city, his corner office had become both sanctuary and prison - a monument to his decade-long climb up the corporate ladder.
“Still burning the midnight oil?” David from accounting appeared in the doorway, his silhouette backlit by the hallway fluorescents.
Thomas barely looked up. “The Singapore merger won’t review itself.”
“You know, I’ve been watching you these past months.” David settled into the leather chair across the desk. “You remind me of myself fifteen years ago. Same drive, same… intensity.”
The lamp flickered slightly, as if acknowledging the weight of those words. Thomas finally raised his eyes, noting the deep creases around David’s mouth, the silver threading through his temples.
“And how did that work out for you?” Thomas asked, though something in his gut already knew the answer.
David’s laugh held no mirth. “Look around you, Thomas. This building, these offices - they’re like the belly of some great beast. We’re all just swimming around inside it, thinking we’re making progress, but really we’re just being digested.”
“That’s rather poetic for a numbers guy.”
“When you’ve been here long enough, you start seeing the patterns. The endless cycle of ambitious young executives, each thinking they’ll be different.” David gestured at the dim lamp. “Even your little setup here - I had the same lamp, same late nights, same dreams of making partner before forty.”
Thomas felt a chill despite the summer heat seeping through the windows. “I’m not just another cog, David. The board has practically guaranteed my promotion after this merger.”
“Ah yes, the promises.” David stood, straightening his tie. “Tell me, have you even called your mother this month? When was the last time you saw sunlight that wasn’t reflecting off another skyscraper?”
The lamp sputtered again, throwing strange shadows across the wall of awards and certificates Thomas had accumulated. For a moment, they looked like bars of a cage.
“I should get back to work,” Thomas muttered, but his hands had stopped moving over the keyboard.
“Of course.” David moved toward the door, then paused. “Just remember - that lamp will keep burning as long as you let it, but it’s not the only light in the world.”
After David left, Thomas sat motionless, staring at the dim circle of light on his desk. The shadows seemed to grow longer, deeper, more meaningful. Outside his window, the city continued its eternal dance of light and darkness, neither fully winning nor losing.
Finally, Thomas reached for his phone. His mother’s number was still on speed dial, though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d used it. As the phone rang, his hand hovered over the lamp’s switch.
“Hello?” His mother’s voice, thick with sleep.
Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but found himself simply staring at the lamp instead. The merger documents glowed accusingly on his screen. After a long moment, he set the phone down without answering, turned back to his keyboard, and continued typing under the watchful eye of the dim desk lamp.