Just two more days. Just two more days. Marcus told himself the same four words over and over. Just two more days. He rocked back and forth in his chair. His office walls never felt so menacing, looming high above, almost mocking him. Marcus looked at the steel door. It was curious that his office had a steel door. He'd never really noticed that before. But it didn't matter. Just two more days, and he would retire. He'd go home, kiss his wife, hug his kids, and be able to do it again every day until he died. No more working through weekends, birthdays, or ball games. He could be a real father now, and a true husband. Marcus smiled to himself. He looked down at his watch. Still just two more days. Time went so slow in this place! Marcus cursed at his watch, and then realized he wasn't wearing one. He frowned and could have sworn he'd just checked the time on his wrist. Ah well, it didn't matter if he went a little crazy with just two days left. He looked back up at the steel door. It suddenly got colder in the office. He crossed his arms and hugged his chest. Marcus looked over at the pictures of his children on a nearby shelf. The shelf was gone. All his pictures, where did they go? Marcus again frowned, but thought maybe he remembered bringing them home. After all, just two days left. About time to start packing up. He hugged his chest tightly. Marcus looked up at the lights above. Make that light. He noticed there was just one fluorescent light bulb hanging from a wire in the room. Odd choice of lighting for an office, he thought. He looked back at the steel door. It was open...by god it was open! He stood up, still hugging his chest with his arms. He ran for the door. As he neared it, a huge man appeared in the frame. He was holding a tray with bread, mashed potatoes, and gumbo on it. Marcus screamed at the man. He did not scream any words. Just one long, sad scream. The man did let Marcus pass. Marcus, still hugging his chest, slumped tithe ground. The tray was dropped on the carpet- make that concrete, and the man slammed the door shut. Such odd furnishings for an office, Marcus pondered. He noticed that instead of a desk, there was a small bed for one. Instead of floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city skyline, there was one 8 inch by 8 inch window with metal bars outside it. How odd. Marcus looked down at his arms, still tightly wrapped around his chest. This straight jacket was constraining his breath. That's right, Marcus remembered. I'm in an asylum. I...hurt someone. Haha! But it's okay, just two more days. Just two more days. Just two more days. Marcus repeated the same four words to himself over and over.