It was a Klingon kind of day. Everybody had much larger foreheads than usual and they kept banging them into lintels. The ceiling had partially resolved to stop keeping its distance and thus advanced and retreated as it felt respective waves of confidence and self-doubt. “Am I too aloof?” my ceiling kept asking. “I usually define it as shyness but, I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if it’s just a euphemism for standoffishness. I’d like to make more of an effort to reach out; it just feels so unnatural everytime I try it. Hey, want to hear a joke? What did one wall say to the other? Meet me at the corner. Ha! Ha! See, that’s friendly, right? That’s relatable.”

“You’re in my personal space,” I said. “Could you back up a bit?”

“Ouch,” said this woman with a striking forehead. She had misjudged the height of the doorway.