Leaving work, I say goodbye to my coworkers. I won’t be seeing them for a while. Most of us have been laid off. 

I see Halia, one of the other illustrators I work with, approaching me from across the shared workspace, an anxious look on her face. She is most surely walking toward me, wanting to talk, but I can’t bear to hear someone else’s problems, share false assurances, commiserate about our plight, or what is to come.  I want to be alone with my worry,  wallow in my panic, and marinate in misery.

I walk through the busy city streets. I pass briskly by people, annoyed by everyone because of my hard day at work. All I want to do is go home. The once beautiful fall colors that just yesterday wrapped around me like a warm blanket, now feel like an unwelcome constriction, encircling me with heavy, hot, abrasive wool. I stop to take my notebook out of my leather handbag, hoping to jot down a few words to express my feelings.  This usually works to calm me and put things in perspective.

As I close my eyes, trying to appreciate the fresh air, I feel myself bump into something, or rather,  maybe I am bumped into. I come up against something hard, but yielding… 

Opening my eyes, I see myself, staring back at me. Confused, I look down only to find a completely different body.  “Sorry,” the me I’m standing across from says, picking up my glasses that had been knocked off on impact. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Shocked to hear my own voice when I haven’t spoken, I confusedly mumble a response “Oh, it’s alright.”

Something is very wrong. I hear these words in a voice decidedly NOT my own.  They are delivered in a deep, although hesitant, baritone. 

Stunned, I watch myself, apparently unphased by this interaction, continue down the sidewalk.

I examine my new self, and have a sudden thought, Oh, no! I’ll be late for work if I don’t hurry!

Now I am even more confused, because not only am I pretty sure  I do not have a job, I was laid off just this morning,  but this sudden urgency to get to work is an involuntary thought. It seems to be coming from the back of my mind, something that I wasn’t really thinking about.

New thoughts keep swarming my head as I hurry on in the direction that I somehow know to be the way to where I work….

Did I kiss the kids goodbye?  Did Beatrice say she would get the prescription?  Did we lock the front door? Lily won’t forgive me if I’m late again. Oh, I hope I’m not!

Soon I arrive at a tall brick building, which must be where this body I am inhabiting works. I walk through the imposing entrance and towards the elevators. The woman at the front desk waves at me. “Hi, Mr. Evans!” she says. I wave.

When I get to the elevator, I press the button to take me to floor three.  I can’t understand how  I know that that’s where I need to go.

When the door opens to the third floor, I walk straight, left, and then left again, waving to people along the way. It’s like muscle memory.

I arrive in a bland office, the only color coming from the light and the trees looking out the window at the autumn scene. I sit in the office chair, and a woman with a light blue top walks in. 

“Good morning, Rick,” she says.

“Hello, Lily,” I respond.

She walks up to my desk and puts a stack of papers in the corner. “These are the orders from March. They  were supposed to be paid 8 months ago and I heard Kathy from billing say that the accounts have been overdrawn for over a year.” 

“What?” I ask, surprised.  Looking over the admittedly small stack of orders on my tiny desk.

“We all know that our division isn’t doing so well. That is, we are all losing our jobs while the owners are sailing in Majorca.  We’ll probably end up closing by the end of this month.”

I am shocked. Our business had really been successful once, but then the world started to change, move faster, and leave us behind. One by one, the good company leaders left,  switching to better-paying jobs, with nicer bosses, moving to bigger cities, and leaving the cold winters behind. 

“I didn’t think it would happen so quickly!” I exclaim. “What can we do?”

“But it hasn’t happened quickly,”  she replies, “it's been happening for a long time. You work so hard, always with your head down, taking on everyone else’s work,  that you haven’t seen the changes. No one is buying, we can’t get items shipped quickly enough when they do, and the higher-ups have said that we can’t recover.

“So, that's it.  we’re closing for good. I think I have known this for quite a while.  I have just been denying the truth.  Trying to delay the inevitable.  I am scared.  What will I tell my family?  How am I supposed to support us?”

She sighs, “I don’t know Rick. It’s gonna be hard for all of us.”

I look at her. “Are you going to be fine?” I ask. I was surprised I even asked. Why was I thinking of anyone else?  I had to worry about myself and my family’s health.

“Well, this job has been my life for 35 years,” she says. “I don’t know what I’ll do without it.”

“Any place would be crazy not to hire you.”

She smiles. “Thanks, Rick. You’re a great guy.”

I smile back at her. She turned and slowly left. 

Wow, I thought, What am I going to do without a job? Without a purpose?

I sit there for a moment, lost in my thoughts and staring off into space. 

As I slip back into reality, I turn and look out the window at the autumn scene for a moment, before going home to tell my wife the bad news.

Still in shock, I hang my coat up on the hook by the door. Beatrice, my wife, hurries up to me. I look at her with apologetic eyes. 

“What are we going to do?” she asks. “We have rent to pay, medical bills, school to pay for, and now with no money coming in!  And poor Lily, still taking care of her mother, what about the people who depend on this job?”

“So Lily told you,” I say.

“Of course she did. She knows that you wouldn’t be able to tell me. You’d feel too bad.”

“She knows me well.”

“So, will you talk to the bank?  Or ask your brother in California?   Have you been looking to see what else is out there at all? I could go back to work too, but We can’t afford a nanny. You'll  have to find something.”

“Well, we could borrow some money from your parents,” I suggested.

“Um, have you ever met my parents? I’m just their disappointing daughter, and they despise you.” 

“Well then, I’ll go out and try to fix this all right now.”

“Okay, go right ahead,” she says, patting my shoulder… 

As soon as she touches me, I close my eyes and open them to see myself in place of Beatrice. Oh no, it happened again, says a small voice in the back of my mind. 

I take my husband's coat from the hook by the door and wrap it around him. “Just… stay safe. I’ll leave some spaghetti on the stove for you when you get home”

When I hear the door shut, I walk through our small, cluttered apartment, and into the children’s bedroom. 

“Hi, guys,” I say to our two kids, Kim and Andrew.

“Is Daddy home yet?” Kim asks.

“Yeah, he just got home, but he had to leave again on an errand,” I tell them. They don’t deserve this life. Sure, some kids have it worse. But the thing is, they are just good kids. They don’t ask for anything, they don’t complain.  What I've always wanted the most for them was to send them to a good school.  The public schools here are horrible, depressing, scary places. The only decent school in our neighborhood is a private school, which we can’t afford. Poor kids, they’re only 6 and 8 and they've been through more than some adults.

“When’s he gonna be home?” asks Andrew.

“I don’t know,” I respond. “Do you want to play a game?”

Around nine that night, I lay in bed, reflecting on today. My family is broke, and neither my husband nor I have a job. 

Rick walked in, sulking. 

“By the look on your face, I’m assuming there’s only bad news,” I say.

He nods. “There was a sign that said they were hiring at the convenience store down the road, but when I asked about it they said the job had already been filled.”

“I'm sorry that they got your hopes up.”

“Whatever. If I sleep on it, maybe I’ll think of something.”

The next morning, Rick stays home with the kids, a rare treat for them. Meanwhile, I take a walk around the neighborhood to look for any place hiring. 

As I turn a corner,  searching storefronts for help wanted signs, l accidentally run into a young woman with glasses and a leather handbag. The impact makes me see stars for a moment… 

“Sorry!” I say to the harried-looking woman looking back at me. I feel very disoriented for a moment, but then my life slowly comes back into focus.  I feel the strap of my handbag pressing on my shoulder.  I am suddenly aware of the colors again,  the reds, oranges, and golds.  I am myself again,  recently laid off, but feeling slightly lighter.  The dread is not so crippling.  I apologetically mutter “I’m kind of out of it today. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Oh, it’s alright.” the woman says,  “I think I know how you feel.”  She has what looks like a spaghetti sauce stain on her skirt. I check my bag for my notebook and keep walking. I should stop bumping into people like that.

On the way home, I see someone familiar. 

“Halia!” I wave her over.

She hurries toward me. “Hi,” she says anxiously.  She looks like she has been crying.

“Were you trying to tell me something yesterday?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she says, a surprised look on her face. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

I thought for a second, that maybe I had noticed, just not cared. But these past  24  hours I have felt something shift within me. 

“Of course I noticed,” I responded. “Do you want to grab a coffee and talk?”

After talking to Halia, I felt like I had changed for the better. I realized that I had never taken the time to listen to someone else’s problems, I had only ever complained about my own. 

About thirteen months later, Halia and I are sitting in our favorite coffee shop celebrating the sale of our first children's book. The booth behind us is a mother with her two children who are excitedly highlighting their school supplies list. They’re happily chattering about starting at their new school as their mother beams proudly at them over cups of hot cocoa. I steal a glance at the happy scene. The woman looks vaguely familiar.