Vertigo

“Breakfast of champions,” Steve murmured, snagging a jelly doughnut and a cup of coffee from the break room. He nodded to Robert on his way back to his desk.

“Say, Steve…”

“What’s up?”

“Why is Gary on the ceiling?”

Glancing over, Steve saw that Gary had moved his chair and monitor up to the acoustic tiles. The cord dangled down to the hard drive, which was perched precariously atop a corner of his cubicle. He was trying to sip coffee but was having difficulty getting it to flow the right direction.

Steve shrugged. “He said his vertigo was acting up.”