15 minute break

Well here I am in the bowels of corporate America. Rows of grey cubicles leading to windows of grey skies. I'm watching my coworkers scurry under the cubicle walls trying to avoid the boss and meet up briefly to gossip or trade out CD's. It's wierd, they remind me of soliders in WW I trying to dodge the "Jerry's" along the trenches. Occasionally the manager or supervisor or whatever will stand up like a general surveying the field to check on enemey movement, that's when all the "Scurryers" freeze where they are, now it's more like a prison break, no one wanting to move lest they give away their posisition. Sometimes they look like pop up weasels, heads bopping up to see who's head might be also be bopping up. Occasionally two heads will recognize each other and they smile and bop down. Oh well, my Federal mandated 15 minute break is up, back to the grind.