Eyes closed, she felt at the world. The faint drumbeats from a song played softly in the corner vibrated in her ears, and all around her was the sound of tapping, clicks and exaggerated coughs. The loud whirr of the C.O.W.s provided a soothing background, and if she let herself relax, she would sense her tiredness emerging, trying to claim back minutes lost from the night before. But she could not allow herself that luxury. Instead, moving her fingers slowly and distractedly across the keyboard, she typed, stopping often in order to blink and breathe in orange darkness. A yawn grew in her lungs as she shifted position to lean on a loosely curled fist. Dull roaring filled her ears as the yawn came forth, and she paused. When her eyes flickered open once more, for a moment she saw everything in double – two screens which shone overwhelmingly, words which resembled the scrawling scribbles of a four year old.

On these types of days, she usually wishes she was a four year old (school would still be a year away).