The mounting paperwork on his desk takes face and mocks him as if to acknowledge the impossibility of catching up. He continues to input data, refusing to believe there is no end to this forsaken stack of invoices and delivery receipts.
A shot of Crown and a couple aspirins inspire his perseverance. He processes one and two more appear. He fears the demons are multiplying with each stroke of his computer’s keys.
He reaches for the next in line and it wields its weaponry against him; paper-cut. Licking his wound, he scolds the form, considering balling it up and tossing it in the trash. He knows better… it will only return again, stronger than before. He sighs and begins inputting the data from the face of his enemy.