by AJ McCall
Samuel gazed out the window overlooking a city's gleaming silver skyscrapers.
Lovely view, he thought, until he eyed a handprint on the glass.
The cleaners, he figured, reaching up and brushing the window. Half of the handprint disappeared.
It was inside. Strange.
No one but him came into the office.
The rest of the day blurred; meetings, conferences, phone calls... When Samuel returned to his office, he was exhausted and a bit looney, too. His secretary accompanied him.
"W-window," Samuel murmured.
"Yes," Margret replied, holding a bottle and syringe.
"Yes, you'll touch the window, but take your medicine first."