Deeply Betrayed by the Cubicle Gods

Humans are territorial beasts, and so, it seems, are members of Paragraph. Myself, I like to sit in the same cubicle every time I come here: the one beside the dusty ladder leading to the roof, under the "emergency exit" sign and facing the open space. The light from the skylight shines on me, and the presence of someone curled up in a comfy chair seems sociable and soothing (unless they start snoring). Given a choice, I’d decorate my designated spot with a few family photographs and a clinging plant. Alas, there are days when some inconsiderate soul sits in "my" cubicle before I can claim it, and I am forced to skulk in a dark and claustrophobic corner

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