When Ms. Abeleine left, everyone could feel it. Nothing physical. The thermostats read the same. The lights continued their output. The low drum of traffic outside the office remained in its steady flow.

​

Everything was the same - but different.

​

It was less vibrant. Sunlight seemed to lose some of its hue. When groups gathered by the watercooler to chat during break, eyes would softly scan for her auburn hair lurking somewhere in the background. The small oven in the breakroom did not waft the scent of the premade cookie dough as she felt a tray should be made that day because it was 'all fuzzy in here.'

​

Everyone was happy for her, of course. Getting her dream job overseas. After all, who deserved it more? She had been a team player, kind, determined. The whole package.

​

Her going away party was a rowdy affair. Tim couldn't recall the last time he'd even had three drinks, much less however came after that. It was somewhat of a blur. Yet despite his flawed recollection he could see her figure sliding through the room and eliciting laughter from each passing group. Despite her imminent departure casting a sense of gloom, for those brief hours she dispelled storm clouds.

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It had been hard to find where she had bought the cookie dough. Apparently there was an in-group with a local confectionary shop. Tim found it not the least bit surprising she had mingled herself into their good graces. Who else? In truth the only reason he even found out about them was by using her name as a guiding light in his search.

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The cookies rose up just like hers had in the worn out breakroom oven. The smell still brought folks in to look. It didn't evade Tim's notice that when they entered to inspect the source of those heavenly smells, they quizzically looked this way and that. Their scans ran over Tim, seeking out another.

​

He couldn't blame them, really. The cookies tasted good, but not quite right. The orange light of the oven filaments was just a bit too dull. On one hand he felt foolish. Foolish for trying to imitate her. To bring what it is that she'd brought. On the other hand, a smile began to take form on his features. It wasn't a gleaming grin, but it was there all the same.

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Because she would've tried. For some reason, the thought of that seemed like enough.

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Tim felt she'd left something tiny in the office. Just a fragment. A memory, but one that drew small breaths. A figment.

​

Wasn't that something to smile about?