notes from the outer world.

10am and on: The sun, the sun. Once in a while, an overwhelming gush of bright yellow light flooding a somewhat bare office-room, making even the most worn-down carpet shine again. (Also: Switching calls and contexts, on the fly, wondering what happens to all the tiny bits of information that don't make it to the written minutes. Pondering the concept of sawdust in completely unrelated crafts. Maybe not too far off.)

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