Channelle X Amoss

The room was empty now with the only the buzzing of the shitty fluorescent light bulbs, whirring of computers, and a keyboard clacking. A man sat at his desk, typing away, answering unread. Emails and scheduling next week's lesson plans. He runs a hand though his hair thoughtfully and brazenly look out the window.

On the outside, another man paced, more clacking and some more clining from keys he held in his hand. He made is rounds to each door, making sure to shut and look them as he jingled his keys some more.

This is my first book. Construction criticism is welcome