Lack of Color
Chapter One
A/N: My first Office drabble. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
Set in season 3, episode 1.
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This is fact, not fiction
For the first time in years
And the girls in every girlie magazine
Can't make me feel any less alone
Lack of Color – Death Cab for Cutie
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Jim looked out the window. The view was still new to him. Everything seemed to be so achingly new here. His desk, his bed, his chair, his view. Especially his view. Pam wasn’t there to smile at him whenever he looked to his right. She wouldn’t be answering calls, playing solitaire, or doodling absentmindedly in one of her numerous miniature sketchbooks.
It was foggy today. Again. He sat up straighter as he spotted a small clearing. Now that was a beautiful view. Just next to the road was a small park with a bench, a swing set, and an ancient elm tree. Elm trees were Pam’s favorite trees. She would constantly be doodling their leaves because, They’re so beautiful, Jim, just look at their structure. They have strong veins but they also have feathery-looking edges. They’re a warrior’s feathers. He still remembered her laugh. That one, specific laugh. Hesitant at first, insecure about her poetic metaphor, then louder and truer as he joined in. He smiled as he imagined what Pam’s face would look like as she sketched the lonely scene.
His daydreaming was soon interrupted by Andy pointing out a blonde woman that worked in the office. He wasn’t interested; she wasn’t Pam.
Set in season 3, episode 1.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is fact, not fiction
For the first time in years
And the girls in every girlie magazine
Can't make me feel any less alone
Lack of Color – Death Cab for Cutie
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jim looked out the window. The view was still new to him. Everything seemed to be so achingly new here. His desk, his bed, his chair, his view. Especially his view. Pam wasn’t there to smile at him whenever he looked to his right. She wouldn’t be answering calls, playing solitaire, or doodling absentmindedly in one of her numerous miniature sketchbooks.
It was foggy today. Again. He sat up straighter as he spotted a small clearing. Now that was a beautiful view. Just next to the road was a small park with a bench, a swing set, and an ancient elm tree. Elm trees were Pam’s favorite trees. She would constantly be doodling their leaves because, They’re so beautiful, Jim, just look at their structure. They have strong veins but they also have feathery-looking edges. They’re a warrior’s feathers. He still remembered her laugh. That one, specific laugh. Hesitant at first, insecure about her poetic metaphor, then louder and truer as he joined in. He smiled as he imagined what Pam’s face would look like as she sketched the lonely scene.
His daydreaming was soon interrupted by Andy pointing out a blonde woman that worked in the office. He wasn’t interested; she wasn’t Pam.