The train’s intercom system boomed the announcement for Central Station, and John opened his eyes.
Strains of the strange dream wafted through his head, as he walked from the platform to his Central Station office. The office was old, an old room in and old building containing old, but not unpleasant, furnishing. He sat behind the antique oak desk, his thoughts straying between the dream and the woman in the train. Soon preoccupied with the day-to-day responsibility of running a busy station the strange events were forgotten.
The high-pitched bleep of the desk phone stirred him from his work. On answering, the shrill tones of the lobby receptionist assaulted his ear.
“There is a woman here to see you Mr Bedford. She says you left your organiser this morning. Says her name is Mary, says you’ll know who she is.” Her tone became rather too-knowing by the last sentence.
“What? How could…” She must have taken it. “Send her up please.”
The lobby wasn’t the place to make a scene, and the receptionist already smelt gossip.
“She’s already on her way, sir,” the receptionist said.
“Thank you, Ms Smith.” He put the phone down, and wondered what embellishments would be circulating around the building by lunch time.
The door opened and Mary walked in.
“I took it. But it wasn’t stealing. I always meant to give it back, honest.” She clasped the organiser in a white knuckled hand. Her cheeks flushed a deep red. She walked towards the desk and pushed the organiser across in one quick, fluid motion.
John jumped upright, eyes wide, his heart racing.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked.
John took the organiser and sat down again. “Take a seat,” he said, gesturing to one of the empty office chairs and wondering what to do next, surely she must be crazy.
Mary placed the chair directly in front of his desk, and sat down with her arms folded across her lap. She looked directly at him as tears welled up in her blue eyes.
“The world is like a rabbit hole John.” She spoke before he had time to gather his thoughts.
“Most people only see the entrance and ignore the dark inside, you see. But if you could enter, your eyes would get used to the gloom, and you’d find lots of twists and turns. Oh, but you have to remember it’s full of Rabbits, crazy Rabbits.” She got up, tipping the chair in the process, walked to the door, and opened it without looking back. Then she left, closing the door behind her.
John stared at the closed door. This day just wasn’t making any sense. He slumped forward, across his desk. A piece of crumpled paper sat on his keyboard. He couldn’t remember it being there before Mary’s visit, and she didn’t touch anything.
He smoothed out the paper, a picture of his empty office. Written across the middle were the words ‘You are not here’ with an arrow pointing to his desk. He turned the paper over to see a local address scrawled on the back.