brilliant.

Catching the train feels like sailing into darkness but it is not dark here; no, there is some light from the window and the clatter of keys hits my ears and the girl at the next desk peels labels from a strip and slaps them on envelopes before thumping them down with a fat fist. The clatter of filing cabinet drawers punctuates the hum of twenty computers and five printers in one enclosed space, but mostly it is fingers clicking away making unseen words on our private computer screens that one notices, the fact that we work away from each other, facing into our own individual electronic voids. Doors open and shut, slamming and beeping in the distance, and the kitchen is full of milk and coffee as people creak along, with their cheery morning greetings and showing off today’s colourful visit to the wardrobe door; an ethnic brooch here, a bright red shirt there, and yes, those jeans are too tight for you but how proud you were to get them on after six weeks at Weightwatchers.