Nathanael's POV:
Work seems to have no end. If genies existed, I know I'd only wish for one thing; I'd wish I had at least one person I could complain about it all to. Alas, I think I'll just add that to the long list of things I can't have.
I massage my tired eyes for the… Hundredth time this evening? Only for my sight to be blurry once I open them again. No amount of light or brightness will help appease the fatigue of my corneas and the stinging around them.
The fact that I have to sit in front of a computer and read black on white for more hours does not help.
Every clock around me indicates nine thirty after dark. I realize I've been sitting at my desk for the past three hours already. I push my weight off the chair and turn on my heels around towards the window, allowing the cool air of the night to stream every way along my face, brushing every inch of it.
I close my eyes until the knock I'd predicted reaches my ears, "Yes?" I inquire.
