The DeskThree screens. Every line goes up.

She checks them like a captain checks the sea. The graphs know better than to go down. There is chai, and there is water. Nothing else is permitted near the keyboard.

The TeamTwenty people. One eyebrow.

Nobody has ever been told off. A single raised eyebrow travels the length of the room and twenty people discover excellent posture.

The Night ShiftSleep is a four hour meeting.

A lamp, a mountain of books, a moon that keeps checking on her. Her eyesight is weaker than it should be and her glasses are on the desk. Of course she squints instead.

The MenuThere is one dish.

It is chicken. It was chicken yesterday. It will be chicken tomorrow, and the hens following her around are slightly worried about it.

The ClockShe is never late. The meeting was early.

It starts at ten. She arrives at quarter past with a calm face, a dupatta halfway to the floor and a very good reason.