Bzzz.
An expensive phone rattled and turned slightly askew on the wooden desk where it sat. The desk was heavy and solid, made from expensive wood. It was located in a corner office in a small complex on the edge of town. Close enough to be convenient, but far enough from the city center to avoid the traffic jams.
The middle-aged man sitting at the desk didn’t look away from his computer. He wore professional looking glasses and his short-cropped hair had the first touches of gray. His fingers tapped away on the keys in a sporadic but precise rhythm. The spreadsheet in front of him was filled with sprawling numbers. A name plate on his desk read “Mr. Fields, CPA”.
Satisfied that another column was in order, he leaned back in his chair to look over his work. As he did the phone vibrated noisily again against his desk. Without looking away from the screen he reached over and retrieved it. There was a text message from his wife. His thumb swiped over the screen and the message sprang to the front.