It was an office space. The type one had in their home. Sitting on a chair, right in front of his office table where his laptop sat, Mr Williams Swift was typing away furiously on the laptop. He was putting on thick-rimmed glasses that hung loosely on the bridge of his nose. Occasionally, he would take a sip from the cup, which was in front of him, right next to the laptop. Amari just stood by the door, which she had closed after her, watching him. She could tell that the content of the cup was black coffee from one of the various smells her nostrils picked up from the room.
Amari waited, knowing that something was supposed to happen soon and soon enough, the man's phone rang out loudly, startling even him.
Amari held her chest as she too had been starlted. She watched the man fetch the phone from the far end of the table, glancing at the caller ID before picking the call unhurriedly.
