Tip tap.
Tip tap.
Tip tap goes the keyboard, the lifeline, of a young teen.
Tip tap.
Tip tap.
"Why are you here?"
You know, in retrospect, you have no idea.
Tip tap.
Tip tap.
They finally turn to look at you.
"It's been a year. Why are you still here?"
Tip.
"It's been a year. I haven't done anything. I didn't forget yet I haven't done anything."
Tap.
Tip tap.
Shiny. The pencil sharpener blade slices the pencil.
Sharp. The pencil grazes the paper.
Tip tap.
Silence. They turn to the blinding screen again.