The persistent clacking of someone’s fingertips beating upon a computer keyboard rose only marginally above the faint noise of their pitter patter voices, an occasional laugh, and the copier roaring on and finishing its task. But the typing cut through all of it. It was a constant. That particular someone was rolling today.

Meanwhile, Ellis watched a red tailed hawk hovering across the newly budded tree tops, noticed the cloud cover shadows, and observed signs of a breeze caressing the hedgerows before him. He considered the contrast, something he had done before, of the busy sounds of life inside the net competing with the silent comfort of the setting just outside of his window. The window always was his boundary, his high wall. His release.

And that reminded him of being at university, hearing the mowers trimming new spring grass while his final exams called him back inside, to the grassless world of study… and ambition.

And being a child, while the others in the neighborhood were dashing across fenceless backyards, he finished his assigned chores and checked off boxes on the paper list taped to their refrigerator door.

Always the contrast and always the same; peering through a high wall to a life beyond duty.

He dreamed, out across the far horizon line. Ellis felt a welling up and it was all too familiar. He knew this and thought to himself, here we go again. But then…

… it occurred to him that he had quite perfected the quelling, become expert in pushing it downward into dark shadow. What if he didn’t? What if he let it ride, just this one time? What might he do? What might he actually be capable of?

Ellis pushed himself up from the desk, used his arms as stiff levers to create vertical and horizontal distance from it. He then proceeded out through the door and into a hallway. He soldiered forward, thinking about mowed grass and fenceless backyards. 

And then, he found himself at the front door, itself a glass window out into a world beyond his responsibilities.

“Ellis, get me a large iced. Extra milk. Don’t forget the extra milk.” The booming blast came from Carter, his boss. Nathanial Carter. A man without lacking, a man of distinct authority, and one who called out to Ellis to get him a coffee because, of course, that’s where Ellis must be headed and that’s what Ellis would always do. Yet, this one time Ellis didn’t respond. Or even acknowledge the request, his superior’s mandate.

“Ellis! Hello… can you hear me? You’re going to Starbucks, right?”

Ellis walked through the door and immediately felt a soft, cool breeze. Though he was outside and the door was now fully shut, he could hear Carter still booming: “Ellis… are you deaf? ELLIS!”

Ellis proceeded. Forward. He saw that the hawk was still hovering and soaring. What must that be like? To float above everything, to be able to move about freely, to access an always available escape plan, any time you’d like?

Ellis continued out. To the boundary. And over the wall. Released.

For at least this one time.