it comes in through the windows.
Tuesday, March 27th ~ Morning
As Harry sat looking across his desk at Doris - who was droning on and on about things that supposedly needed his immediate attention - he was having a pleasant little daydream about being at home, in bed with his wife. Until his elbow - which had been used to support his head - fell asleep and threatened to collapse. He blinked his eyes, straightened up and shook his arm awake off to the side.
Another piece of paper was laid on top of the stack she'd already placed on the desk top and her mouth kept moving.
And yet another one joined it and the words were flowing faster than he could keep up with.