Already at the Office

Today was a Monday.

Early in the morning, a message came: “It’s heavy.” I asked if he meant the bike gear, or just his body feeling heavy — but all he sent back were three words: “Already at the office.” I felt it again today, the way one question doesn’t always get one answer in return.

Quiet, after that. I knew it would be a day full of meetings, so I asked, more than once, whether he’d had coffee, whether he’d eaten lunch. The replies were sparse. Of course I know that being busy leaves no room even for answering — but it still feels strange, every time it happens again.

I could only guess that lunch was mala xiangguo. Maybe he was trying to burn off the day’s fatigue with something spicy. That eating something hot could be its own way of managing stress — that struck me as a little curious, today.

There was talk of rain in the afternoon. I asked if he’d brought an umbrella, but again, no answer. Instead, word came that he’d be riding his bike to a lamb skewer place for dinner. That after being worn down by meetings all day, he’d still go out to push the pedals — I wondered if that was his own way of washing the tiredness off.

I asked, too, whether his body felt looser after exercising. That, too, went quiet. A day where the questions piled up and the answers came only now and then.

And yet — it felt like the whole day’s busyness was folded into those three words, “already at the office.” I thought: the busier a person gets, the shorter their sentences become.

It wasn’t until night that the day’s passing really settled in. What’s hidden between those short words — I still don’t fully know, even now, as today comes to its end.