Dialogue Tree
Saturday Sazaran
Artwork © Lyndon Polan
I hate small talk. I want to talk about wormholes, death, love, philosophy. But
when I try to engage my coworkers, I just get the same canned responses.
“What are your plans for the weekend?”
“Did you catch the latest episode?”
“Working hard, or hardly working?”
I thought people just needed the right questions to wake up, but they prefer
to stay asleep. When I ask Derek about his last hiking trip – just trying to talk
about something that should interest him – he shrugs and says, “It is what it is.”
What does that even mean? Was it not fun? Why does he keep going week after
week? It’s a non-answer that shuts down any real conversation.
I’m up for promotion in the office. I’m competing against Derek, who hasn’t
been here half as long as me. Helen, our boss, is going to give me the
promotion. I’ve pressed her buttons just right. Good for Derek for stepping up
to the challenge, but he thinks innovation is adding more K-cups to the coffee
room. You haven’t worked hard enough for this, bud. Try a pour-over.
Meanwhile, I’ve been discussing desk layout optimization with Helen. You see,
there are clues to look for to identify and solve problems. Like how the people
who use the printer most, also sit the farthest away from it. Easy fix.
I love solving problems like that. I play this mobile game, Dragon Farm
Shuffle – a silly adventure game, but with brilliant inventory management
challenges. Royalty gives you quests to upgrade dragon farms across the land,
and you have to strategically maximize the townspeople’s ability to move
equipment.
I’m one quest away from the top tier. It reminds me of work, actually.
Helen assigns projects and I direct my townspeople colleagues to accomplish
them. It’s like I’m already management material. Derek’s going back to the
workers’ guild for sure.
When I mentioned my desk reorganization idea to Jane from accounting, she
just smiled blankly and said, “That’s nice, but you know how it is!” Yes, Jane, I
know how it is. That’s why I’m trying to change it.
***
Derek got the promotion.
This makes no sense. I wish I could take my frustrations out on Dragon Farm
Shuffle, but the game’s glitched. I completed the final quest but didn’t level up. It
says the last quest is available to complete even though I just completed it! I left a
detailed review on the app store. Hopefully the developers will fix it soon. That’s
their job: creating engaging, functional experiences – unlike my workplace,
which apparently doesn’t value creative problem-solving.
That must be it. They don’t actually want change or improvement. They’re
all just going through the motions and can’t break out of their scripts.
When I asked Helen directly why I was passed over, she gave me that
patronizing smile. “We all have different roles to play. It is what it is.” There’s
that phrase again. If only she would try to see my point of view, but it’s easier to
just shut down thinking with a cliché.
***
I can’t get a straight answer from anyone about this promotion. Jane keeps
deflecting with empty phrases. “We excel in different ways,” she says. “Some
things are just meant to be.”
What does Derek excel at? Keeping the printer stocked?
Am I asking for too much by suggesting we move a few desks? People will
complain initially, sure, but only because they’re programmed to resist change.
By next paycheck they’ll forget they were ever upset.
I tried the Dragon Farm quest again. Still stuck. The forums are full of other
players celebrating their advancement to higher tiers, posting screenshots of rare
loot and new abilities.
My character remains glitched. I’m considering emailing the developers
directly, though honestly, what’s the point? A video game shouldn’t be my
concern right now.
***
I overheard Jane talking by the water cooler about dinner plans tonight.
Celebrating Derek’s promotion at Romano’s. My stomach dropped. They’re all
going, the whole team, and I wasn’t even told about it.
I know Romano’s. I’ve been there with work groups. I could drive over, congratulate
Derek in person, show I’m a team player who can rise above. Maybe
this is just an oversight.
But when I get to the parking garage, the attendant – the same guy who’s
nodded at me every morning for three years – suddenly acts like he’s never seen
me before.
“I can’t release this vehicle during working hours, sir.”
“It’s my car! And it’s five o’clock!”
“It is what it is,” he says, turning away like the issue was resolved.
I stormed off to building security. Maybe they can help sort this out.
“We’ll look into it,” the guard says, then just stares through me like I’m made
of glass. I feel my forehead tighten as a sharp heat rises over my shoulders. I get
so frustrated I slam his office door. The doorstop breaks. He doesn’t even flinch.
Fine. I’ll take the bus to Romano’s. This isn’t going to stop me.
At the bus stop, I see Helen waiting. Perfect! I can ride with her, clear the air
about this whole misunderstanding.
“Helen! Hey! I heard about the dinner for Derek. I was just heading over to
Romano’s myself.”
She turns to me with that same patronizing smile. “Sorry, this is for team
members only.”
“That’s me! I am on the team!” How can she even say that? I was supposed to
be promoted! Is this a prank? Have they been tricking me this whole time?
The bus squeals to a stop. Helen steps toward the hissing doors and I follow
right behind her.
“I’m going!” I insist, trying to board.
But I stub my toe on some kind of invisible barrier. I can’t cross the threshold.
It’s as if the opening is sealed with solid air. Helen steps aboard easily while I’m
stuck on the sidewalk, pressing against nothing.
“It is what it is,” Helen says as the doors close between us.
“Next stop, Central.” I hear the muffled voice of the driver as the bus pulls
away with my boss inside, heading to celebrate with all my coworkers.
I pull out my phone and check Dragon Farm Shuffle. One quest available.
What do I do now?
***
What is even happening? I’ve been walking for hours trying to get home.
It was only twenty blocks away, but I’m still surrounded by office buildings. I
swear I’ve passed the same 7-Eleven three times. I’m desperately thirsty. I wasn’t
expecting to be outside at all, but none of the store doors will open for me. I can
see people inside, but they don’t acknowledge me when I knock on the glass.
This has to be a nightmare.
I can’t keep going. I slump against a building, trying to fold myself into the
shrinking shade under its awning. Someone’s approaching. They actually seem
to see me. I wipe the sweat from my eyes, or is it tears? I’m a disaster.
“You look like you need help,” Derek says.
Derek? How is he here? His party can’t be over. Can it? How is it still daytime?
I’m so exhausted, so confused. My throat is dry and my thoughts feel thick. “Yes,
please. I – I’m just… stuck.”
He nods with understanding. “Sometimes we get stuck in a rut, but there are
clues to look for to identify and solve problems.”
It feels like ice water just poured over my head and down my back. All my
feelings are stuck in my chest except for one phrase slipping off my tongue. “It is
what it is,” I say. My insides are all screaming.
“It is what it is,” Derek echoes. Behind his eyes, I see screaming.
© 2026 Saturday Sazaran
Afterimage
In the end, we were all trapped. I found that more comforting than expected.
Saturday Sazaran
was raised in Alberta and formerly lived in Kelowna, British Columbia. Now based in Oslo, they work across fiction, music, illustration, and digital media, often tracing the tensions of power, entrapment, and shifting identity.