Empty Mirror February 25, 2010Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, oddities, The Narrative, Toulouse Street.
On rare occasions I find myself wandering the an empty upper floor of the Counting House tower, looking for the mail room. It’s a hidden window back down a disused corridor lined with disheveled training rooms I have only seen in use once. I usually find the mail drop without too much trouble, even if I’m forced to stand for a while in the lobby and wait for someone who routinely deals in antiquated paper to come by so I can follow them in. While I’m waiting I study this painting that graces the elevator lobby. At least I think it is a painting. It looks like the sort of vacuous abstract a corporate decorator would select, something intended not to unsettle the cattle. Some days at work, I wonder if it’s a window into something, the tabernacle of some secret Vision Statement known only to the Upper Floors. Or a mirror reflecting the interior landscape of the Counting House. And if it is a mirror (and I often think it is) why I am not in it?