Lightning forked across the sky, shattering the tranquility of the calm night. Faber sat in his desk as stripes flickered across the room. The dark lines of his cold, expressionless face became illuminated with every burst of light. He sat motionlessly with the while sleeves of his forearms resting on a bed of papers.

Thunder rolled across the horizon and rattled the glass panes behind Faber's seat. Faber observed the pulsating slits on the wall, projected from the nondescript blinds hung over the window. Another crash resounded outside and a whirlwind of papers tumbled to the floor. Faber looked at the havoc in silence and casually rummaged through an oak drawer. His head tilted slightly at the soothing rhythm of falling rain, tapping on his window. He paused at the sight of the appearing, disappearing bars on the wall, which grew curiously warped as the shadow of water immersed them.

The howl of wind in the air was followed by a draft that disturbed the papers on the ground. Faber turned to see a man, dressed in business suit, standing in the doorway. The persistent lightning highlighted his menacing complexion, and another ruckus shook the window as if to announce his presence.

"Quit loafing," he barked. "I need those papers by morning!"
Faber stared at him blankly. The rain and wind outside grew stronger.
"Well?" roared the man.
"No," Faber replied coldly, as a flash of light streaked through the blinds.
"No? Wha--?!"

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