THE CAFETERIA

What Is Real, Really?

Decar always arrives at work a few minutes early.

The company is a multinational steel corporation that has been operating in the city for thirty-five long years. Decar works rotating shifts, and on this particular Friday, he’s on nights.

At eleven p.m., he takes over from Flaviano, his childhood friend. They’ve worked at the same company for twenty-three years.

Tonight, things are unusually quiet.

Decar works in the storeroom, and the company’s systems are scheduled for updates and improvements, leaving him with no work to do throughout the night.

The hours pass peacefully enough. Decar wanders around in flip-flops, as he often does when the night allows it. His workspace is relatively large, covering roughly eighty square meters.

Just then, his phone rings.

It’s Natália, a former girlfriend with whom he’s stayed in touch over the years.

“Honestly, I don’t understand why they make you go to work when the system’s being updated. If there’s nothing to do, why don’t they just give you the night off?”

“Natália, don’t ask me difficult questions. I haven’t got a clue… That’s not how things usually work around here.”

“So what do you do all night?”

“Walk around, think about you, and scribble in my journal.”

“You’re kidding! You still keep that journal?”

“Of course I do… I like writing down my ideas, my stories. And you know I’ve been thinking about writing a book.”

“Good grief, Decar! You were saying that back when we were together. You’re still thinking about it?”

“I am, Natália. And I won’t be putting it off much longer.”

“Well, I think that’s great. Hey…” Natália suddenly changes the subject. “We should do something together over the holiday. What do you think?”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I was thinking we could head to the beach. It’s been ages!”

“That’s true. Let’s do it.”

“Okay, I’ll find us a nice little place and get back to you. I need to try to get some sleep now.”

“All right. God be with you, sweetheart.”

“And with you. Have a good shift.”

The night slips onward without ceremony, yet something doesn’t feel quite right.

Decar tries to concentrate on some old-fashioned literature when a sound emerges from the storeroom corridors.

Crying, perhaps.

Or a low, indistinct murmur.

He gets up and cautiously makes his way toward aisle five, where the sound seems to be coming from.

When he arrives, he switches on the lights, illuminating the entire aisle.

The sound stops instantly.

The storekeeper raises his hands to his head and turns in a circle, as though searching for something behind him.

Nothing.

Decar feels relieved. After all, the idea of someone crying in there makes absolutely no sense.

Back at his desk, he picks up his phone to check the time.

What he sees unsettles him.

How is that even possible?

It’s already past two in the morning.

Time has slipped away far too quickly.

He arrived, talked to Natália, heard that bizarre sound… and somehow all those hours have passed.

I must be hallucinating. There’s no other explanation. How could time have gone by like that? I need something to eat. I’ll head to the cafeteria.

Decar puts on his shoes and slips into a jacket. The cold in that part of the city is merciless.

At two twenty-five in the morning, he heads for the cafeteria.

Along the way, he takes in the sheer scale of the company. He knows the facility is enormous, a sprawling industrial complex filled with advanced technology.

He feels like a single cell inside a living organism.

As he approaches the cafeteria, the unusual stillness catches his attention.

This area is normally filled with noise: people coming and going, cutlery clattering, countless voices mingling in conversation.

But now?

Nothing.

He takes out his employee badge, holds it against the turnstile reader, and steps inside.

The sight immediately strikes him as strange.

He can’t remember ever seeing the cafeteria this empty.

He approaches the first serving counter, helps himself to some vegetables and greens, and stops in front of the young woman serving the meat.

She looks half-asleep, but still gives him a generous portion: four pieces of beef.

Decar thanks her, turns left, and heads toward the tables.

He sits roughly in the middle of the dining area, facing the serving counters.

Before long, he notices three men helping themselves to food.

They don’t appear to be together.

The first sits at a table to Decar’s right.

The second chooses a table to his left.

The third takes a seat directly in front of him.

Decar studies each of them.

There are so many people working here… I’ve never seen any of these guys before.

He continues eating peacefully, but his thoughts drift to his father, who died the previous year.

The loss is still fresh.

As he struggles with the thought of no longer having his old man around, something about the man to his right catches his attention.

The fellow has shoved half his fork into his mouth.

What the fuck was that?

Decar chews his piece of beef and looks again.

This time, there’s no mistaking it.

The man’s mouth opens impossibly wide.

He stuffs not only the fork and the food into it, but part of his hand as well.

The sight is grotesque.

Decar notices the man sitting directly across from him suddenly bursting into laughter.

He’s staring straight at Decar.

What the fuck is going on here?

Decar looks back at the man with the enormous mouth.

Now the fellow is shaking his head from side to side at an extraordinary speed.

Dear God, what the hell is that bastard doing?

The other men erupt into loud, uncontrollable laughter, their eyes fixed on Decar.

The sight of that head jerking violently back and forth is more than he can bear.

He refuses to keep watching.

Instead, he turns to his left.

The man at that table pushes it away with both hands and begins to vomit.

Decar blinks.

For an instant, he slips into another world and back…

The man is vomiting far beyond anything a human body could possibly contain.

He doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t even breathe.

A chill runs through Decar’s entire body.

Across from him, the other man is still laughing.

Laughing at him.

Fuck, this is unbearable. I have to get out of here!

Decar gets to his feet, leaving his unfinished meal on the table.

Now they’re all laughing at him.

He quickens his pace, abandons the dining area, and heads toward the exit.

Then he sees a man standing beside the door, his back turned.

Decar recognizes the figure.

He hesitates.

For a moment, fear gives way to longing.

Wait… that’s my father.

Decar approaches and gently places a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The man turns around, his face spreading into a smile far too wide…

The End…