Even the marvelously reassuring facts of the past couldn’t soothe Sophia today. The typing of the keys as her fingers pressed in a hurried fashion would normally assure her that life could be predictable, but today it only annoyed her; why must she bang away at the keyboard like an angry journalist after a painstaking interview? Her colleagues must hear the obnoxious strikes from all ends of the edifice. I bet they can’t even concentrate on what they’re researching; instead, they spend their time praying that the noise upstairs would just CEASE. How can someone do anything with all this goddamn noise? BANG, BANG, BANG. It’s the leak in the faucet that drips when you’re trying to fall asleep. Or maybe, Sophia thought, the sounds are just a bit amplified in her mind by a tricky situation… maybe just a bit.