She walked across the traffic filled streets, one traffic light at a time as she swiftly attempted to make tiny leaps through the snow. The heel of her boots made little dents in the icy blanket. She looked forward and charged through the streets like there was no tomorrow; it was as though nothing could phase her, not even the sound of a truck driver honking and yelling out of his window—“crazy lady! You plan to die today?” The clacking of her heels became more prominent as she entered the lobby and let out a shudder as she let go of the impact negative eight degrees had on her. She walked to her desk with the clacking being silenced once again due to the carpeted floor, took off her winter gear and collapsed on her chair. She looked at me and laughed; “the things this city has us doing right?” She pulled out her glasses and clapped the box shut, the sounds made me jolt in comparison to the pin drop silence in the office. It felt like human machines filled the area. She rubbed her hands together and gave them a squeeze; she twiddled her hair, then pulled it to one side. She pulled up an excel sheet and stared at the blank grip, and even tapped her fingers on the edges of her keyboard in a fast motion; it sounded like thousands of insects were running across. Her focus suddenly moved to the window, where I could hear her breaths get slower as she watch the snow take its time to pat onto the ground. Her eyes chose a flake and followed it all the way. She turned back to her desk and plugged in her earphones, frowned as though there were a thousand thoughts changing through her brain like an army. She began to slow her breath again and gave her computer a little smile I think; perhaps it was a self-assuring smile, to evoke confidence maybe. She began to type, punch in numbers, and that frown reappeared again, the “insects” on the keyboard turned into an army of them that just wouldn’t stop.