A Dream Fragment: Dust in the Wind

I left work yesterday at 3:00 p.m. (went sailing). I come into the office this morning and the big room has been cleared. File cabinets, sample merchandise, furniture -- all gone, except for a few scraps of paper and other detritus. All I see are unfamiliar faces. I don't see my office mates: looking through the locked glass door I don't see Dave and Danny. But our desks are not disturbed. I encounter Charlie, who hired me 10+ years ago. He looks slimmer & younger and much better dressed than ever. He's working for the FBI now. (He was fired 1½ years ago. We acknowledge that we know no one milling around. Finally, some bare acquaintance comes up to me and we whisper together, struggling with the words, talking around but not uttering certain obvious ones ("fired", "terminated", "laid-off"). I struggle to hear what she is saying to me, leaning even closer to her. (Those hearing aids can't come too soon!) Finally, one or the other of us murmurs, "We're dust". But deep inside, I am sensing a strong impulse to be one of the survivors: that old aspiration to be among the last ones standing! Because, when it's over, it's over. Then, a meeting is called in a conference room. My acquaintance and I don't know whether we should go in and sit in the back (of course), or just watch at the door. We have to decide quickly, before the door closes....