The afternoon slides into evening, and the office grows quieter.
Most of the staff have gone home, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the hum of the ceiling fan.
My phone vibrates, a reminder of tomorrow’s town hall meeting.
I’m supposed to explain what little I know to anxious community members.
Questions I can’t answer, fears I can’t soothe.
The pressure builds, a tightness in my chest.
I can almost hear the voices of concern, the demands for clarity.
I try to prepare, jotting down what I can.
But the facts are elusive, slipping through my fingers like sand.
The promise dangles in the air, edges frayed.
