Two MBA degrees hung on the wall – fit for only the best in class. Below, was a dusty photograph of a young couple who rarely smiled together.
The sound of contemplated typing interrupted the quiet that usually characterized the house, a silhouette of a young woman staring intently at the screen.
‘Submit CV?’ -A dialogue box asked. Her fingers rose from the keyboard, wiggling uncertainly. The sound of a muffled fall and crying followed. A toddler was learning how to walk.
‘Cancel’ she clicked on the pop up – appearing sure as she rose.
“My hands have better things to do.”