My fingers collided with the wooden door, waiting for the approval to come in after being summoned by my father. "Come in."
The office was painted grey, and it had only one floor-to-ceiling window, which faced the main road. On the grey desk sat a desktop computer, a notebook lying open, and a stack of papers sitting under a turtle-shaped paperweight. In a corner, the air conditioner was blasting at medium, and there was a swivel chair in the middle of the office.
A bookshelf, bursting with books was in a corner, with yet another stack of papers under a paperweight that was shaped to look like a tuft of grass. A few pens were lying on the papers, but some had fallen onto the top of the bookshelf. I notice my father, his hands wrapped around a small baseball as he throws only to catch
