The desk around me is littered with stationary debris. The isolation created by half-walls isn’t lost on me and I feel uninvited as I sit here, a squatter at someone else’s desk, casting about for inspiration. However, I find nothing under the dim lighting beyond the impression of stormy clouds nor is there anything in the mumbled voices and laughter that linger like the fading sounds of thunder. The colours around me are weeping in various tones of grey blotted with splashes of black and white. Unsurprisingly my relationship with monitor and keyboard is lacking here in this stark workspace.
By Shari Marshall – 2018