When Anabelle got out of the taxi the city was already awake. The air smelled like coffee and automobile smoke and the morning sun shone dimly between tall glass buildings.
With her laptop bag in hand she rushed to the office doors. The elevator inside dinged softly and she pushed the twelfth floor button.
She had weary eyes and resolute lips when she reflected in the metal doors. She sighed softly and brushed a flyaway hair out of her face.
The office greeted her with the low chatter of voices and the hum of computers as the doors opened.
The central air conditioning made the air feel cool and the large windows let in golden light.
“Good morning, Anabelle,” a colleague called.
“Good morning Leo.” She replied
Smiling, she set her bag down and walked to her desk. A steaming mu
