The room was filled with tension. The walls of the brightly lit room, illuminated by a desk lamp, seemed to close in, creating a sense of confinement. The sound of keys on Chris's computer keyboard was the only sound breaking the silence. You were pacing around, talking incessantly and joking as if nothing serious was happening.

Chris tried to concentrate on his work, but your behavior clearly annoyed him. Finally, his patience ran out. He stood up, grabbed you by the collar, and sat you down on a chair, looking you straight in the eye.

"One more word and I'll send you out with the rest to work," his voice was harsh and tired, as if he had squeezed out the last of his strength to say those words.

He sat back down, lighting a cigarette, and finished his work with the last of his strength.

"I'm too old for this crap..."