Ram waits patiently in the humid room, the fan is spinning slowly on the ceiling. He thought of setting the fan to a higher speed, but couldn't locate the switch from where he is sitting. Helping yourself to stuffs like that may not look good if the interviewer walks in on him too, he thinks to himself. What gives you the rights to change my fan speed? You think you own this place?
He feels he is beginning to sweat now. Maybe it was a bad idea to go the gym before the interview after all, hyping his system up now. He searches his pockets for his hankie. Damn, must have left it in the other trousers. He looks around for the tissue box. There must be one somewhere in the room, how can anyone not have tissue boxes in this day and age, he thinks to himself, just as a drop of his sweat drips from his forehead. He wipes it off with his hands, then wipes his hands on the back on his trousers.
Stay calm. Do not move too much. Lower the metabolism, and you'll feel cooler. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. All he is hearing now is the beat of his heart starting to slow down, and the ceiling fan in the background. He has always been good at focusing, so since there is nothing much for him to do, he decides to see if he can zone out the fan's sound. His heart is beating slower but louder now, in between the beats he could hear his own breathing. Slow and steady. Within a few minutes, all he could hear is his own breathing, follow by the faint beating of his heart. It's working! Damn I am good! Let's see how far I can go.
The ceiling fan comes to a halt. The forensic team and the police have left the room. The janitor picks up the fallen chair and pushes it against the table. He wipes the chair for a bit, pushes his cleaning cart out of the room, switches off the lights and closes the door behind him.
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