Caufman poked at the plate of salad before him and frowned. His fork was bent at an awkward angle, and little bits of tomato and onion were being scooped and rolled lazily back and forth from one end of the china to the other. The Cafeteria felt like looking through the inside of a hospital room; Too white, too sterile, the lights bright enough to kill, and everything tasted like it had been funneled through a coroner's office 3 weeks before it'd been sloughed on to his plate. Or maybe the latter part was just him. Leafy greens did not appeal to him as much as they used to. Either way, the place was empty, and he couldn't eat.
A security camera jerked to life, twisted to look down on him from upon its metal pedestal. He could see the lens, almost hear the metallic buzz of the camera clicking into place, and it focused in on him, another one swiveling to point its eye towards the hall.
From somewhere not far off, he began to hear footsteps.
Slowly, he pretended to chew while he leaned back in his seat, shoving his hands in each pocket.