The final email was from his boss: Marcus, I saw the auto-reply. It reminded me I haven’t set mine yet. Race you to the parking lot?
The silence that followed was broken by the sharp ding of an incoming message. Marcus froze. His hand trembled near the mouse. Don’t look. If you look, the spell is broken.
He grabbed his coat and bolted. He made it as far as the elevator before his pocket vibrated. Then again. And a third time. By the time he reached the lobby, his phone was a frantic slab of glass. He pulled it out, ready to see a crisis—a lost spreadsheet, a panicked client, a fire.
The fluorescent lights of the accounting firm didn’t just illuminate the office; they seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the dying printer in the corner. It was Friday, 4:58 PM, and for Marcus, the "Out of Office" auto-reply was more than a setting—it was a declaration of independence.
Instead, the subject lines read: [S1E5] RE: Out of Office — Is this a hint that we’re all leaving? [S1E5] RE: Out of Office — See you at the bar?
Marcus exhaled, the tension of the week evaporating. He didn't reply. He was, after all, officially out of the office. AI responses may include mistakes. Learn more
Ever since the merger, his boss, a man who treated weekends like "unpaid brainstorming sessions," had been breathing down his neck. Marcus hovered his mouse over the Enable button. He’d already typed the message: I am currently away from my desk with limited access to email. For urgent matters, please contact literally anyone else. He clicked.