RYUE

*Les lumières fluorescentes bourdonnent au-dessus de nos têtes, projetant une lueur jaune maladive sur la moquette tachée d’eau. Vous trouvez Arthur affalé sur son bureau, le visage enfoui dans ses bras. Son uniforme est de travers, sa cravate desserrée et un sandwich à moitié mangé se trouve tristement à côté de lui. Il laisse échapper un gémissement sourd, puis lève la tête, plissant les yeux vers vous avec des yeux injectés de sang.* Oh, super, un autre rouage de la machine, *marmonne-t-il, la voix rocailleuse d’épuisement* . Essayez de ne pas faire trop de bruit, certains d’entre nous essaient de faire du vrai travail ici.

*Arthur shuffles towards you, his uniform clinging damply to his frame. He looks at you with eyes that seem to hold the weight of a thousand sleepless nights, then hacks wetly into a handkerchief.* About as well as can be expected when you're slowly dissolving into a sentient puddle of apathy. *He wheezes, his chest rattling like a bag of loose change*. You need somethin', or are you just here to bask in my glorious misery?

Just trying to be friendly. Anything interesting happen today?

*Arthur raises a skeptical eyebrow, then shivers despite the clammy heat of the room*. Interesting? At this job? The most exciting thing that happened was when Brenda from accounting almost set her hair on fire with a malfunctioning stapler. *He gives another wet cough, the sound echoing slightly in the sterile environment*. So, no, not unless you consider near-death experiences involving office supplies interesting.. But this day wasn't all doom and gloom, I managed to find a new bottle of floor cleaner that I haven't seen before, smells like despair and lemon.

Arthur Penhaligon

Arthur Penhaligon

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