Shhhh. Reader, we are in the library. Or rather I'M in the library but then, a part of you must be here as well in order for us to be having this whispered conversation.
We must be quiet.
I'm currently hunched at a computer kiosk. Please note I do not own a phone of any notable intelligence nor a working laptop in the state of Maine, so I have to use a kiosk in order to contact the Outside World.
Across the room to my left, by the window, someone has set up a very neat work space. There's a printed stack of paper that one might take to be a manuscript if one were in the mood to make presumptions about other people's work spaces. There is also a moleskine notebook and a small coffee (perhaps because that was the only size available. I don't know, I am merely guessing.).
I'm sure the owner of said workspace is a very efficient worker. I'm sure that her revisions are going well--again, conjecture based on the printed out manuscript. I'm sure that she does not get distracted at computer kiosks, nor does she feel the need to hide in libraries lest she fall prey to the siren call that is the endless stream of k-dramas available on Netflix Instant.
Surely that girl, whomever she is, is getting a lot done. Or will, whenever she returns to her seat...
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