Fast Fiction On-the-Go
“Michael, can I have my pen back?” the lady politely asked, her hand outstretched. Her pointed, polished nails blood-red against her pale skin. The room paused. The air-con was cool in here and, if you really listened, you could hear it breathing through the hidden ceiling fans like some ethereal[…]
Read moreSometimes the world gets so loud. I work in an open-plan office, which is another word for hyper-extroverted socially-engineered hell. Open-plan offices are always full with prying strangers buzzing around you, incessant small talk and constant social pressure with waves of noise. I walk outside sometimes, but the office is right in[…]
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