A tale I wrote
The man meets his first desk. It’s much smaller than he imagined. It looks exactly like everyone else’s. He plonks himself on the too-hard computer chair and imagines doing so another 25,000 times. He slides his fingertips over the pale wood. She’ll do, he tries. No one laughs. He holds the mouse like a human hand. The bleak wheels slide him under what will become his breakfast bar, picnic bench, occasional dining table, head rest, punching bag, tear catcher, one-time ironing board. His legs barely fit. He doesn’t think to complain. He imagines buying a personalised mug but never gets round to it.
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![[Image of Carl]](https://gallery.mailchimp.com/359042f0f2078578afe743161/images/5b943193-5e49-4c20-8132-095be0794e41.png)
![[A tail I like]](https://wildearth.com/static/fd18c38ddf85eb8293e0b4a5ab798b9a/5e923/adorable-animals-belgian-malinois-1633522-1024x680-2.jpg)
