The coffee machine humming, a pause, then "I think the vendor's deliver. glitch glitch."
"...and then the budget rewrite. unsure." Someone scratches their forehead, echoes through the room.
In the corner, a whisper, "Did you hear? credible sources say they might change the deadline."
It's just another Monday morning. Ceiling fan, ticking clock, "the crisis could've been avoided," she whispers.
They looked around the room, faces.jpg, nothing.
Unspoken Thoughts linger like vapour trails across an empty sky.
Timeless Dialogue: echoes in a digital ether.