Laughter Left Behind
It's my office now, I tell them, daring them to contradict me. They cannot, though they know it should not be - should never be - my office. It is someone else's office.
It has been someone else's office for seven years. Someone else sat behind this desk and read reports, drank coffee, held conversations. For seven years, I've come in and given counsel, laughed, left in misplaced anger.
Now it's my office, and I will be here. Others will come and give advice or storm out, ready to take on the world in a fit of choler.
They will not laugh.
*END*