Monday Number Zero
A train rumbled past outside the window, reminding her that life still existed beyond these four walls. She wondered again how long it had been since fresh air had entered this room with the stillness leaving her suffocating, not unlike being buried alive. The bulky man wheezed behind the ornately carved desk, stacked high with papers and manila files. The only respite to the blandness of his desk was an old ochre paperweight from Uluru proclaiming proudly in midnight blue lettering that I climbed the rock.
He coughed suddenly and indicated a seat in front of his desk.