In front of her, the computer screen was blank. Deadline was at 5 pm. The clock on the menu bar of her PC insisted that it was 4.35 pm, but Stephanie didn't see how that could possibly be true, as that would have to mean that she was about to miss a deadline for the first time in her career. She sighed, sat back in her chair and tossed her pencil forcibly towards the cork board that held assignments and photographs. It lodged point first, testament to how much and how thoroughly it had been sharpened. Stephanie had spent a great deal of time today sharpening and resharpening her pencil. She had a drawer full of equally lethal pencils, in fact. “It's not fair,” Stephanie muttered to herself, running her hands through her short, glossy hair. It was most certainly not fair. What she couldn't elaborate on, even to herself was what exactly wasn't fair. The story should have been writing itself but instead only the word 'The' sat sullenly on her computer screen.
