"Nope," I say.
On this warm and sunny day, Elizabeth and I moved from our shared cubicle space and into our own private offices. At once, this is huge and nothing at all. While I can no longer see her, I can still hear her singing and coughing. We still share a wall, but that wall is now made of something more than just dusty cloth and goes all the way up to the ceiling (where the cockroaches dance and play).
We have windows. Our windows allow sunshine to blanket our skin, and our windows rise to offer fresh(er) air. I can…