My shoes spark muffled echoes on recycled carpet. I walk past the head honcho's office - his head is buried in recycled paper. I whisper, "I've got a secret." He looks up, no one is there.
"Oh, hello Janet," I sprightly blurt out my mouth like verbal shit. Friendly niceties continue as we walk past each other "I've got a secret." I inaudibly mutter under my breath. She acknowledges me with a smile. She knows nothing of the nature of my secret.
My secret lingers, not as a scent, but as a feeling. I walk these halls with phosphorescent shadows identifying only half my face - my other face smiles too. Not for others, but for my secret. The secret feeling that lingers.
Not more than a few moments ago, a chocolate behemoth just passed through my rectum and my anus lips kissed him goodbye on it's journey to the ocean. I can still taste that kiss on my lips. My face eyes close, and i remember our embrace and the last time i saw him.
I never saw him again.
My face eyes open. I'm at work. Busy bees hustle, ignorant to my secret. Ignorant to love. A few hours later, I've forgotten that chocolate behemoth. I'm now captivated with the sensation that lingers from a dozen tiny brown soldiers.
I see my boss.
"...I've got a secret."