Extraneous

A pile of paper falls off the desk like bubbles floating to the surface.

I dive low, picking them up with calloused hands and frayed patience.

Notifications chime a brief warning before emails pop, pop, pop, pop, like a never-ending stream of consciousness from an unchained mind.

Lights hum overhead; a swarm of fluorescent insects.

My back creaks against the chair. It’s an unwelcome visitor in an inhospitable environment.

Stagnant air makes me gasp for breath.

It’s only 9 AM.