The world is full of people who tolerate and like other people.

I, however, am not one of them.

I was one of those people who sat down at their desk in the office and never said "Good Morning" to anyone. 

However, others... were.

"Good Morning, Alastair!" A cheerful voice passed by the doorway of my office cubical and I grumbled. Some people were just too ecstatic to be working in an office, but they obviously didn't realize it.

On the overhead speaker, there were the daily announcements; everything that I already knew. Call me grumpy. Call me surly. Call me all the words in the book. One thing was for sure: I was always on top of things. Be that as it may, there was one thing I caught briefly.

There were interrogations today.

The police would take us one by one to the vault to interrogate us. Some were very brief, nothing to sweat. Others were more..... grueling. Hours and Hours on end. No food. No water. No breaks. The thing they were watching for; someone to break. Someone to tell them if anyone in the department or building was gay, or lesbian. Someone to break under the stress. Their favorite target lately had been me. The longest surviving gay in the building. The only surviving. Who knows what happened to Carey and her girlfriend.

Normally, these days wouldn't be a problem for me. I was good at hiding my like for other male human beings, but the talk around the office had gotten pulse racing. It wasn't really the talking, more of people glancing at me sideways, trying to gesture discretely at me, thinking I didn't notice. I notice, though and I knew it wasn't good. I knew something bad was going to happen today with the interrogations.

Suddenly, men in black suits came marching into the department. Searching