He looks at the clock. It reads “5:00”.
He is a little anxious.
“5:15” and he taps his fingers on his desk.
His colleagues wonder if woodpeckers ever get headaches with all the tapping they do.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It’s 5:25. A bead forms on his temple. An ant below drowns in the dead sea.
5:29. Click/Click. The computer gives its final whurrr.
5:30 arrives! The battle won, he THRUSTS his hands up in the air, and dashes out for a celebratory drink with friends.
9:30 prompts another sip of that beer.
And he remembers 5:30.
And the victory.
But he sighs;
for in another 11 hours another battle will ensue.
as 34-24-34 walks by.
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