It's a Promise
A few days later.
A woman sat behind a newly furnished desk that was sent in a day or two ago. It was filled with little objects here and there in the drawers, but the surface contained a sole file organizer, pen holder, abstract lamp, and a computer where hands consistently flew over its keyboard. A large stack of documents was sitting a few inches away from the computer, all of which was read, circled, noted, and a few lucky ones were approved and signed by her. It had been a little over a week since she began her position here, but oddly enough, the tasks performed felt familiar. Perhaps it was because she used to frequently accompany her grandfather as a consultant, but nothing felt new. It was like she took a break off of this job and then came back a few months later.