HE reeked of cigarettes and electronic oil, dripping down invisibly upon his musty hands. Cursing under his breath here and there, he wiped the smudge on his nose and cheeks onto his black drab uniform.
"It's so slow," he groaned at the Intel Inside, boasting of a "Premium-4" status (whatever that means). "This takes forever to load."
I quietly nodded and said, "Yeah." In a sense, I felt like I shouldn't disagree with him.
- - -
*practicing the prose* This is based on one of the men I saw working in the library.
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