Sitting at a desk, doing work, is a girl.
In her bland cubicle typing away at a computer a clock ticks quietly, others typing could be heard with the occasional phone ring.
Tearing away from the keyboard, she leaned back and sighed.
She propped her head up as she twirled a pen in her hand.
Staring at the clock, she drifted off into her own mind.
Imagining everything she could be doing now.
She could be in a cabin in the forest.
Sitting outside with a book as birds chatter among themselves, a fresh breeze of air gently disturbs the trees.
Perhaps the beach.
Where crystal blue water gently washes the soft, white sand. Laying under the warm light of the sun.
Maybe a city, like Paris.
Where cafes and shops line the streets. Museums with historic pieces of art and culture are visited by people.
She was suddenly snapped out of the pleasant thoughts.
Her manager slammed a file on her desk.
She quickly went back to typing
sighing as she wished her escape from now, was real.