As I open the door, the man says, with authority, ‘Conduit’. He has a plumber’s tools, and the right kind of hands. One of those heavy-duty pipes, I’m guessing, maybe for chugging waste. I leave him to it and head back to my station. We all know what happens if we don’t meet company targets. The plumber hums tunelessly as he works, a disrupting, rhythmic drone. I struggle to keep focus on my task, on the count. Then, to crown it all, my damn screen starts playing up. Electric lightning flashes, and my hands lift from the keyboard, sharpish. So no way did I type the tiny letters popping up. I have to practically climb inside the screen to read them…
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