“Is it good?” she asks as she crosses the room to gaze out the window.
“It’s OK.” I lie. The wrap tastes like bitter Styrofoam. I think it is supposed to be cheese.
She turns and walks out of the break room. I do not know her.
I crumple up the remaining Styrofoam and throw it away, grab a cup of coffee and return to my desk.
This was the day I checked in my code. Later that evening I fixed a minor bug.
The world as we now know it will soon come to an end.