SPACE.TEXT

The clinically clean space, in a long boring oblong shape, reflections of people in the shiney windows, far too clean for what the environment should be like. Rustling of newspapers, and munching of food, sounds of people texting and typing. Empty tables, apart from the newspapers and reams of paper waiting to be read. Many empty, generic seats, nobody wanting to sit next to each other. After a swift abrubt conversation, a man points reluctantly, giving a disgruntled look, at a sign stuck onto the window.