Thursday, October 10, 2013

100 Words a Day 400

He sat. He was unable to move. His hands were stretched out in front of him. His wrists ached. The incessant poking of his fingertips sent jolts of pain up his arm. There wasn’t space for his legs. They bent uncomfortably and no amount of shifting brought relief. About the only movement he could effect was to turn his head and see the row of similarly stooped beings that were seated in identical devices. Over it all presided a man. He gazed down on their misery hour after hour and cared not.

It was a typical day at the office.

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