Stan sighed as he slipped his punch card into the slit on
the side of the machine. When he removed it, the time was stamped in the wrong
spot. They were supposed to correct it when that happened, but Stan put his
card away without caring. They weren’t going to fire him after all.
He lingered in the kitchen until his boss eyed him. Then
he dragged himself to his desk and fell into his seat. He shuffled papers
listlessly for thirty minutes before he managed to swallow his dissatisfaction
and begin working at the stumbling pace of the apathetic.
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