Lukewarm Coffee

Six thirty in the morning, and the office is still dark. She sat down at her desk with a cup of coffee. The monitor she'd left on last night blinked red in standby. As she typed, cold air brushed her fingertips. Sorting through the mail that had piled up over the weekend, she found a reply to the report she'd sent last week. "Good work. Thanks to you, we wrapped it up nicely." A single short line. From someone in another department, whose name she didn't even know. She looked at the screen and took a sip of coffee. Lukewarm. Outside, morning light was beginning to seep in between the buildings. No voices yet. She placed her hands on the keyboard to write a reply.