Where is...

He sat there aimlessly at his desk, regarding all of the empty chairs in front of him. His monitor stared back at him, vacantly, daring him to type, use the mouse, wipe the screen of the dust that had accumulated over the weekend. He glanced back at the office. Where is everybody? What happened? Was that dust in the air? Or something else? The printer across the large, vacant room from him still hummed to itself, making the occasional chirp and beep. The fluorescent lights persisted in their solitude, bathing the cubicles in harsh, white blankets.
He scratched his ear and turned around. There was his boss’s office, the door locked. No light could be seen from under the door. What was going on? He had arrived at his office, driving down empty streets. That had been strange. Was it a holiday no one told him about? Or were his clocks wrong? No, the sun had been up for a few hours now.
He took the elevator down to the coffee shop in the lobby of the building. The numbers silently ticked off, lit up above the elevator door: 37, 36, 35…all the way down. Was everybody sick?
No one at the coffee shop; the door locked, the lights off. No one in the lobby, either, no security. He had come up from the garage elevator, so he had missed that. Should he go home? Wait…the radio. Turn on the radio and see what’s what. He always listened to CD’s in his car while driving to work, so he hadn’t noticed. There was a radio on Sharon’s desk a few cubicles over, he could try that one.
And then he looked out the huge, glass windows of the lobby. And he saw it.