MR. RICHMOND IS RUINING ON MY PARADE
Tapping on her desk, Anne looked up, a sigh escaping her lips. "Sir, what may I get for you?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of resignation. Mr. Richmond was testing her patience. Anne wondered what possessed him to torment her with his annoying questions today.
Richmond hesitated, the weight of his unspoken thoughts lingering in the air. "I need a biro," he finally stated, his words masking the underlying complexity of his feelings.
Anne raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Sir, I made sure there are eight pens on your table, and they are all in working condition."
A hint of frustration crept into Richmond's voice as he defended himself, "They may work, but they don't give me the lines I like in my writing. You know I have a distinctive writing," Richmond explained.
But even to his ears, his explanation seemed pathetic as Anne stared at him with a deathly glare aimed at him.
