I sat at my computer desk, feeling beads of sweat trickle down my forehead and hell, feeling sweat all over my body...sweat plastering my thin, sleeveless white shirt to my back, turning my bangs limp and lifeless. Watching as the lines of code flashed across the screen...once, twice, a few times...denied? Accepted? I sat back, eyeing the empty bowls containing an inch or so of mixed milk and cornflakes, congealed by now...the empty sunflower seed bags and pocky boxes, and the stacks of manga. Fushigi Yuugi, Cardcaptor Sakura, and others, many with torn or battered covers, pages missing, notes scribbled in the margins. I looked from them up at the slowly circing ceiling fan, and at the relentlessly ticking clock.
Ticking my damn life away. I looked back at the screen. Processed. Good, time to get back to work.