Then there are days when you keep your head low and work all day and when you look up, the sun is setting and the sky is glowing with the dying light.

Long days are vaguely satisfying, because  although things don’t necessarily work out but you feel like if you’ve worked all day, something is bound to come out of it. The paper cup with my tea from earlier today has gone limp, the sides are soggy and a thin, unpleasant film has formed over the liquid. It sat there all day, while I typed away furiously or ran across the floor looking for print-outs or paper clips.

Right now, I have ten minutes before something else comes up and demands a thousand word report off me. There is an interesting rhythm  of the people around me shutting their things or locking drawers. There is an amusing enthusiasm at the thought of the day coming to an end. People are looking cheerful, making small talk about small things.

The outside world, atleast from where I can see it, is dark and fierce despite its determined glow. The street lights are beginning to come on and I can imagine the elevators beginning to get crowded with people attempting to put on their raincoats or find their umbrellas.

Then they will step out, while I try and look intelligent  in some meeting, with their fancy shoes splattering water on others like them.