This week I moved to a new office on the other side of the city. To my dismay, my chair did not make it. None of our chairs made it. In this trivial office world of mine, it was a tragedy. A source of many speculations. Certainly, we had been spurned.
New, undeserving asses must be enjoying our old chairs. It's nothing less than a grand conspiracy to separate our asses from the cushions we had so grown accustomed.
Then suddenly, my old chair arrived to the new office. Two days late. Joy! Celebration! (Back to work.)
Top Sounds:
1. Tires upon gravel.
2. Ice skates upon ice.
3. A small child laughing at my joke.
4. Scissors at the barber shop.
5. Quiet moans from carnal pleasure.
6. Rain on the window.
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