To see the day of light

They do not seek each other out. And yet they meet every day. At least during working days. She is dressed in silk navy blue blouses, moss green striped trousers, black leather ankle boots. He is dressed like a tramp. Torn jeans, frayed sweater, scuffed sneakers.

They have been greeting each other for more than three years. And for the same three years she has walked after that to her office with resolute steps and the vanilla-sweet scent of Guerlain. He trudges slowly to the cleaning shed, smelling of potatoes and cheap garlic.

The daily ritual is that they look at each other only for a brief moment. Surprised, uncomfortable. Like they are strangers. She nods her head slightly to indicate that she notices him. He mumbles something under his breath. Maybe hello? Maybe good morning?

When she sits behind her sleek brown oak desk, she opens her laptop. She looks at her cell phone to see what time it is. But she knows beforehand that it is still too early to go to the company restaurant to order a latte macchiato with salted caramel.

When he opens the door of the cleaning room, he grabs the cart, the buckets, a scrub brush, cleaning fluid, mop, rubber gloves, glass cleaner and trash bags. He looks at his watch to know what time it is, but he realizes it is too early to take a sip of whiskey.

They have their own routine. She is Head of Finance for a company that trades in pharmaceutical raw materials. The company is the market leader in polymers and synthetic microfibers. They operate all over the world. For her it is important to keep a good overview of the relevant objectives, to set clear goals and maintain constructive relationships with the important stakeholders.

He is a cleaner. In his head he has a list of rooms and objects that need to be dusted, vacuumed, cleaned. He can dream the sequence of his daily activities. It is important for him to ensure that he can still think clearly at the end of the day and is not too tired or too exhausted. And that the office workers do not smell his breath.

“Excuse me, but have I ever asked you what your name is?”

It is a stormy day in November when she is about to shake his hands and introduces herself. He mumbles his name. Unintelligible. She smells him and she takes instinctively a step back. She says that yesterday afternoon she attended a training course on inclusivity.

“First you tend to believe that inclusivity is all about the LGBTIQ+ community. And of course, that is certainly true. But then I realized that you, as cleaner, are also part of the narrative. Isn't it so? You are often overlooked but you do particularly important work.”

When he does not respond, she cringes. She tries to smile. But honestly it looks more like a grimace. Then she arranges her blonde hair and tightens her grip on the handle of the laptop bag.

“How can you be so sure I'm a cleaner?” the man asks suddenly. Now his voice sounds clear and confident. He looks at her.

The woman gasps for air. She seems to be tottering on her ankle boots. Not only is this the first time she has heard something intelligible from his mouth, she is also surprised by his question.

Then the cleaner makes a gesture that he is joking. He wants to reassure her. He has no wrong intentions. She frowns and wants to know what is going on. He leans relaxed against the wall.

“After studying English Literature, I decided that I wanted to become a writer. A Very Great Writer.” He bursts out laughing. The sound echoes through the solemn empty hallway.

“But all I became, not a Very Great Writer. So I ended up becoming a teacher, interpreter, product manager, secretary. By the day I became unhappier. For sure, I lived. But like a dry sponge.”

He stares at the dark gray carpet. A comedian without jokes.

'Now I want to become a Minor Writer. But a writer. That is why I work during the day. And I write at night. Because I believe that one fine day it will happen. My book will see the light of day.”

He closes his eyes for a moment. She smiles. Then they greet each other. Sincere, unfeigned. And disappear back into their own world.