[Estimated reading time: 3 minutes]

I finish out my day, do a final count at my station, get the supervisor's signature, and head out.
As soon as I walk through the turnstile, the glasses are on, the headphones are up and running, I tap the familiar app on my phone, and I am happy!

The world feels my happiness and is happy with me.
Her twinkling smile is everywhere, the slight crinkles around the eyes are alluring, not yet crows feet.
I'm walking on air as I run a few last-minute errands before heading home.

We exchange pleasantries as she prepares the rolls of spicy tuna.
Her smile invigorates me.

At the makeup counter her eyes meet mine and she knows instantly what I need, and helps put up my hair into a low-price version of the season's fashion.

She smiles the perfect smiles as she sells me the two bottles of Pinko House Cider.

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[Estimated reading time: 8 minutes]

[Author's note: this story is part of the on-going Space Surfers storyline.]

It's another boring and empty Tuesday at the office.
Everyone except for Joe is working from home, and has been for the past three years, even before COVID offered the opportunity.
Joe walks back into the cement two story building, a brutalist structure from the 70s when it was poured and lovingly dedicated to a dead mayor.
The office building shares a parking lot with a small strip mall, the only other building around here, and Joe is carrying a white paper bag with a logo of the burger joint next door.

The whole complex sits on Route 240, an east-west route that connects far-off places no one goes to in the midwest.
On the north side of the route is a corn field, green and ten feel tall at this point in the season.
The office building and the strip mall are on the south side of the road, in a small concrete patch that is carved out of an empty field.
A lone green Civic sits in the parking lot in front of the office building, Joe's old beat-up car.
From inside the office, Joe pushes the Lock button on his remote key fob and the car beeps once.

Just a regular day.

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[Estimated reading time: 4 minutes]

[This is a work in progress.]

Scene 1 - Office, visitor, research

It's another Tuesday in the Phoenix Audit Office.
Everyone except Joe is working from home, has been for the past three years, even before COVID offered the opportunity.
He saunters back into the cement two story building, a throwback to the 70s when it was poured and lovingly dedicated to a dead mayor.
The auditor's office is next to a strip mall, the only other building around, and Joe is carrying a white bag with a logo of a burger joint just doors down.

The office sits on Route 9, an east-west road that connects far off places you've never heard of in the mid-west.
On the north side of the route is a corn field, green and ten feet tall at this point in the season.
There is an empty field on the south side, where the Audit Office stands.
A lone green Civic sits in the parking lot, Joe's rental.

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