Disclaimer: I don't own The Office in any way, shape or form - save DVD. No infringement intended.

Don't speak, I know what you're thinking

And I don't need your reasons...

No Doubt, Don't Speak

She pretends she's a psychic.

The reception desk; a spooky, carnival tent from which she dispenses knowledge of the future, past and - whatever's between.

There's a lot to see, sitting by the door. She studies faces and eyes and glances, and even sort of fancies herself a student of body language (save reading her own).

And on certain days, (when Solitaire and Sudoku can't hold her attention) she imagines she can see thoughts, sense moods.

Like today.

Karen comes in from her sales call and looks... weird, troubled.

And not because of the hair and make-up.

Phyllis is... triumphant. Satisfied, even.

And Angela.

She's been... nice.

(Which no amount of psychic power could have foretold.)

She notices when Jim and Karen go out (for coffee she thinks she hears Karen say) and when they return, Jim seems... distant. No, confused.

Or maybe, guilty.

One of those.

All three?

Life is strange.

And Pam feels it shifting.