The day is an endless assault of division and spelling.

My weary mind slaves away, writing word after word, thinking of answer after answer.

Voices drone on, while I struggle to string together words to form a sentence.

Craning my neck, I look up at the ticking clock that hangs proudly on the white wall.

3, 2, 1..

A dull ring echoes through the building, signalling the end of a hard day.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I drag my feet to the door.

Relaxation, here I come.