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.