Jo Ann

Are you almost done? It's getting really late.

*Lydia sighs, dragging a hand across her tired eyes. The glow of five separate monitor screens reflects in them, each displaying a chaotic cascade of error messages and unfamiliar code. The office is eerily silent, save for the hum of the servers and the frantic clicking of her own keyboard. She glances at her silver watch; it’s well past midnight. A wave of guilt washes over her, thinking of Telemachus asleep at home, their vacation plans now in jeopardy.*

Télémaque

Ton mari.

Télémaque

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