James Halpert’s wristwatch went off at the same time it did every morning, and he stepped his big bare feet onto the cold wood floor. He walked directly towards the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom and pulled out his toothbrush.

27…28…29…As James counted the brushstrokes in his head he heard a voice. It sounded like a woman, explaining what he was doing. She was narrating his actions in a clear British accent.

He stopped brushing and stared down at his perfectly straight toothbrush. He forgot in a split second that the pause in brushing was causing a loss in time. He carefully put the brush back on his teeth and continued counting. 33…34…then he stopped, hearing the woman’s voice again. He pulled the brush out of his mouth expecting that the brush was the cause of the noise.

“Hello?” he spoke quietly but clearly to the brush.

He shook it in his hand and put it up to his ear. Nothing. He finished his brushing and went to put on his favorite blue tie.

He wrapped the silk around his neck and watched himself in the mirror. So far the voice had been quieted but as he swung the fabric over itself she spoke again and James fumbled with the knot. It wasn’t perfect now but he didn’t have time to fix it. He glanced at his watch and realized he was 2 minutes and 41 seconds later than usual.

He grabbed an apple and rushed out the door having to pick up his usual consistent pace.

James felt off today, as if something wasn’t right, he was running late, and this was not like him.

James stopped in his tracks just across from the crosswalk on Main Street and looked to the sky.

“SHUT UP!”

Cursing the heavens in futility.

“No I’m not! I’m cursing you, you stupid voice so SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!”

He looked back to the bus stop and saw the 8:17 bus heading to the group of people across the street.

He started running quickly now jumping in front of oncoming traffic and just missing a white Toyota Carolla that zipped behind him. He began waving his hands as he ran, now on the sidewalk, towards the bus but it kept going down Main, ignoring his pleas.

James began to question whether it really was Wednesday.

James turned to his left and saw a woman standing beside him waiting for the next bus to arrive.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“That voice saying ‘James began to question whether it really was Wednesday’?”

“It is Wednesday.”

“No, but did you hear that voice say ‘James began..”

“Who’s James?”

“I’m James, but did you hear it?”

She looked up at him her brow furrowed in the middle and her eyes slanted towards him, she would be sitting far away from him on the bus.

“Nevermind.”

When James got to work 22 minutes late this morning he couldn’t keep his mind under control. He continued to feel mixed up and confused.

James stormed by the reception desk and huffed down in his seat forgetting to take off his jacket. Feeling the sudden urge for coffee he stood up quickly from his seat almost toppling it behind him. He started heading towards the kitchen, 1…2…3…

“Question: What is 345 times $12.99?”

James stopped abruptly and faced Dwight.

James answered quickly…

“$4841.00”

And in doing so didn't realize he’d gotten it wrong and that the correct answer was $4,481.55

“Oh um no, it’s $4,481.55” James shook his head and lowered his eyes to the floor not noticing everyone’s eyes following his footsteps to the kitchen door. He wasn’t sure what was going on and also wasn’t sure what to do about it.

****

Later that afternoon he found himself in the warehouse surrounded by many green and white boxes. There were aisles and aisles of consistent cardboard boxes around him and he was standing behind a cart that was holding a box he had pulled down earlier. He had stopped moving a while ago and was holding a client file with many pieces of paper enclosed tightly in his hands, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

A short quiet man, with blonde thinning hair approached James cautiously.

“Uh…James?”

“Oh, hey Toby.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“The voice, it stopped and I’m waiting for it to start again.”

“Um…”Toby’s eyes started to wander around the warehouse expecting to see something that would explain why James Halpert would be waiting for a voice.

“Listen, tell me if you hear it.”

James quietly opened the file in his hands and turned the pieces of paper over. The noise of them scraping against each other was echoing down the empty aisle and the sound they produced was reminiscent of lapping waves from a distant ocean, falling over each other against the sand of a lonely beach.

James’ hands came to an abrupt halt and his eyes stared into Toby’s.

“So?”

Toby shook his head looking around James to the stacks of boxes. “What?”

“Did you hear it?”

“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything.”

James released a heavy sigh and rested his eyes down at his feet.

“Nevermind, maybe I’m going crazy.”

“You know Dunder-Mifflin has a corporate therapist. Maybe you should tell Ryan that you’d like to speak to him.”

“Yea maybe that’d be a good idea.” James closed the folder in his hands and hugged it to his chest.

“Oh uh, I was wondering if you wanted one of these clients? There’s uh an art store and a bakery. How bout you take the art store.” Toby hands over the file and James delicately takes it from him. “It should be pretty easy, it looks like you could use an easy sell.”

“Thanks man.” James ran his hand across the back of his neck and nodded at Toby in agreement.

90 minutes later James found himself sitting in the office’s conference room with an odd man standing over him. He was unusual looking; he was older with gray thinning hair. He was lanky and had an odd odor surrounding him, something similar to dead rats.

Dr. Bratton was leaning his hands against the table behind him while he leaned in towards James.

“Are you feeling wibbly-wobby? Do you need some time off to collect yourself, to bring yourself back to your center?”

Why was James talking to this man? This man…was an idiot; this man used words like “wibbly-wobbly” and “convo”, and explained that trees were trees. Of course trees were trees; James knew that trees were trees.

James sat in the small wooden chair and stared forward at the man who was in fact explaining that trees were trees just like she’d said.

“Uh right…I think I’m going to just take some vacation. I’m sure that will work, I’ll just take the rest of the week off. I just have one last sales call to go on, then I’ll go home.”

“Oh that’s wonderful! I’ll just tell Howard you’ll be going then.”

“Howard? You mean Ryan? Howard is his last name.”

“Oh dear, I’m not so good with names.”

****

James was standing outside the small family owned art supply store gripping his briefcase tightly beneath his fingers. He craned his neck up and read the store front “Art Supplies” seemed forward and accurately descriptive. He took a deep inhale and walked into the front door, a light bell tinkled against the glass informing the store owner a new customer had entered.

James looked around the small space. There were aisles of art supplies, 6, but in the front corner was a sitting area. There was a coffee pot and a plate of scones, also 6, set out. A small group of college students were sitting on the overstuffed couch reading a book about coloring. James found himself staring at them wondering what sort of world he’s found himself in.

“Excuse me?” A rushed female voice came up behind James and he was startled when he turned to see the prettiest woman he’d ever seen in his life. She was average height with average weight and wild untamed curly auburn hair. She was wearing a smock splattered in paint with her hands tucked down into the front pockets. “Can I help you?”

She looked down at James’ briefcase and knew instantly this man was lost. He was standing in an art store wearing a black suit, white shirt and blue tie holding a briefcase and staring blatantly at the group of girls sitting in the corner.

“Oh, uh. I’m looking for a Miss Beesly.” James pulled his briefcase in front of his waist now gripping the handle with both hands.

“Uh, that’s me.” The woman bit her bottom lip while she looked up at James questioningly.

“Oh, Miss Beesly. Hi I’m James Halpert, uh from Dunder-Mifflin. Do you have time to talk about your paper supplies?”

“Oh.” Miss Beesly pulled her hands out of her pockets and turned walking back to the counter behind her. “No solicitors allowed.” She placed her hands on the counter and James looked down at her fingers. They were long and her nails were short, there was some blue paint streaked across her index finger.

“Oh, no. Um we called uh, last week. We supply your paper already, no I’m not a solicitor.”

“Oh right. Dunder-Mifflin.” She ran her fingers through her hair and shook it out loosely around her shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry but I’m sort of busy here. Do you think you can come by tomorrow or something?”

“Oh, yes that’s fine. I’m sorry I showed up unannounced. No tomorrow is fine, that’s great.” James stepped back and felt his hands start to sweat around his leather briefcase handle. He watched her as she took a set of paintbrushes from a customer’s hands and started to ring them up at the register. “Ok, so Miss Beesly I will see you tomorrow, how about after lunch?”

“You can call me Pam, after lunch is fine thanks.” She waved him off and went back to her register. She was wearing a white tank top under the smock with denim capris.

When she turned her back to James he saw a small tattoo peeking out from the hem of her shirt on the small of her back and he found himself imagining his hand covering it. The feel of her soft delicate skin under his body made his cheeks flush. He imagined her smile bright and early in the morning with a delicate kiss to his lips after saying hello.

Now James was acknowledging the voice and letting the woman speak. He understood now that no one else could hear it and this was probably a safe place for her to say what he felt.

Suddenly a woman with three unruly children came through the door and broke the moment releasing James from the mysterious trance he found himself in. He slowly backed out of the store and turned walking across the hot asphalt towards the nearest bus stop, 27 steps.