“Ugh, work is so irritating this morning. Not only has everything been running slow but there’s this beeping at in the office that is infuriating! Its driving me insane! It has an edge that must have been specially programmed to be on the same wavelength as screaming babies in tight spaces. I’m pretty sure its coming from the server room though, but when I ring IT they say that nothing’s showing up, but that a guy from the IT department will come and deal with it.” It’s the bad syncopation of it that I couldn’t stand. I sent that email to my sister and she emailed back something funny and cute, with a cat attached. There’s a cough from my boss when she sees it flash up and obviously not work related. She goes to lunch early and so the office is empty now, the wind blowing through my hair from the open window. Its silent, apart from the beeping.

At lunchtime I like to go into the field behind our office. The good thing about working in a industrial estate in the middle of nowhere is the proximity to nature. On days I remember to bring a lunch, I break through the fence and sit on my coat. There’s a field mouse nearby. It’s snuffling, happy in the dull English sunshine. My sandwich is the only thing ruining my commune with nature; it’s so cold from the enthusiastic fridge my teeth end up hurting.  I go back to my desk and stare out of the window all afternoon. There are flowers on my desk when I get back, the date I had on Tuesday. They’re blue roses, coloured by romance. They stand for unobtainable, impossible desires. 

I can’t get my head out of the office when I get home, and can’t stop thinking about the field when I’m at the office. My dreams are half mad. The mouse under my fingers snuffles when I stroke the scroll-wheel in its back, reassuringly ridged with tiny vertebrae that takes me down the page with a tiny click. The chirping of the birds sounds suspiciously like the failing server’s beeping. The flowers on my desk, wilting in grey blue water, their stems floppy and colours muted. My desk kicks me in the knees with strong hooves when my attention drifts from the document. The rolling hills shine in mid morning sunshine, too bright to be real.