The slow slick of pages turning rings sharp enough to slice the dancing dust particles, suspended mid-spin.

The hasty type of maddened fingers fuelled by caffeine, dancing across keyboards, fades into an irregular rhythm, a cymbal that rings little noticed.

The cautious tap of heavy water bottles atop slim wooden desktops carries only just enough to disturb one’s work state and remind them to check how many minutes have passed.

A small cough is choked.

Mechanical air pumps hum a monotonous tune of rushing air passing through filters of air conditioning units.

A song of laughter floats up the stairwell.

Rain falls heavily outside, but is silenced by thick roofs and insulation.