I longed to lean back in my chair and rub the back of my neck, shake my hair loose. My suit had moved into a very irritating position and I really wanted to fix it. That was the problem with the full-spell glamour suits, they always crept up somewhere uncomfortable.
My fingers hesitated over the abacus as I glanced around the bare, badly-lit room in search of the supervisor, wondering if I could risk a 15 second break for some quick adjustments. Just then the hateful man slammed a small paddle down on the side of my desk.
“Chin lo, if there is no life threatening reason for your hands to be still, I suggest you get back to work.” The supervisor, a short man in his 40s, continued his walk up to the front of the room. I didn’t dare watch him, I leaned over my paperwork feeling the silent snickers and half smiles that my coworkers were directing at me.
Pursing my lips, I got back into the job at hand. While quickly calculating, by aid of the abacus, the long rows of numbers on the pages before me, I couldn’t help but think that this was the most tedious and worst assignment I had ever had. Two solid weeks of days filled with accounting and the accompanying clack of a roomful of abacuses was really taking a toll on my nerves.
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