Dax

As I pack my things, I should feel sad. Taking a moment to look out at the view of Chicago from the office I coveted only months ago, I see the city from a different perspective. I still see its beauty, but I also see it as I never have. The floor-to-ceiling windows are no longer simply panes of glass but the equivalent to bars on a prison cell.

The constant battle to climb the ladder of success is all-consuming in a way I was blinded ...