She watched them all drop. One by one they fell like chess pieces.
First the man with the ego and the moustache. He succumbed first, his face a grimacing death mask.
Then it was the petite lady who couldn’t make eye contact. She went as quietly as she existed.
She couldn’t remember the order of the rest of them, but she remembered how they all tried to unlock the door.
Finally, it was just her, her loneliness echoing off the walls.
The door opened, and she blinked into the too bright day.
He shook her hand.
She walked off whistling.
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