Michael sat with his blue laptop balanced on his knees. The harsh glow illuminated his face in the darkening living room and created strange silhouettes and shapes across the walls. He scrolled through several news articles, all detailing the devastation Storm Sophie was creating outside. The snow had built up to such a height that it cut the window in half, only letting a narrow band of light through. He wondered if the name Sophie could ever have been theirs.
Michael stopped once more to study the visible layers each snowfall had made, like a stratum of rock. He could hear Anna tapping at her keyboard next door. She had been in her office all day and had only come out to make herself a sandwich just before two o’clock, complaining about the snow.
Michael closed the lid and chucked it on top of the green cushions they had bought in a small boutique on the High Street. Anna took long pauses between rhythmically beating her keyboard and he wondered what she thought about in those extended moments. He leaned forward and picked up his cigarette packet from the low, wooden coffee table. It had sat in the same position for the last few years, for so long it had left permanent impressions in the red high pile rug. He nudged the silver foil, which confirmed there was only one cigarette left. He knew there would be another sleeve in the office.
He knocked on the door, waiting to hear Anna’s voice on the other side. He beat the wooden surface again before turning the handle and stepping into the room. She had a pair of white earphones in each ear, her head faintly bouncing to a beat he couldn’t hear.
“Anna?”
She didn’t answer, so he approached the desk and opened the drawer next to her. She jumped, ripping the headphones out. One disappeared over her shoulder, balancing with the other one across her breast.
“You scared me” she exclaimed, holding her hand to her chest. She had painted her nails a different colour since this morning. They were now a garish pink that Michael didn’t recognise or like.
“I was just looking for more cigarettes.”
He noticed the cream pair of Sennheiser headphones sat at the back of her desk, an unused birthday gift from him.
“They’re in the filing cabinet” she said irate, before replacing the earphones and turning back to her computer screen. She was typing into a word document. He read part of the page and then tapped on her shoulder, but she swatted at his hands and continued typing.
“Anna?” He tried to take one earphone out of her ear but she pulled her head away. “Anna!”
“What! What Michael?” She ripped the earphones out once again and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Why are you working on this now?”
“What?”
“You don’t need to be doing this now.”
“I want to do it now, Michael.”
“But it’s pointless. The stats will all be different before March anyway.”
“It’s really none of your business. And what else am I going to do? We’re snowed in.”
“You’re right, totally right.”
Michael slammed the door behind him, instantly regretting forgetting the cigarettes. He went back into the living room and smoked his remaining one. The grey smoke tumbled around his head and stung his eyes. As it burnt to the end he got up and pulled the fibre optic cable from the back of the Wi-Fi hub. He sat on the sofa to wait, surprised he had never noticed how far his body sunk into the excessively plumped cushions.
“Michael!” Anna stormed through the doorframe. “The internet’s down.”
“Would you like me to take a look?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Okay, hunny” he grinned.
Anna gave him a thankful smile as he toyed with the black box, turning it around in his hands. He got on both knees and started fiddling with the plug socket. He switched it off and then back on, repeating this idle effort several times. The lights flickered in their pointless display.
“Is it okay?”
“Nothing seems to be wrong. Must be the storm.”
Anna picked both her arms up and then slapped them back down to her sides.
“I need it. I can’t write the report without the internet.”
“I’m sorry, Anna.”
She held one thin hand on her hip and used the other one to run through her hair. Today she had it down, straight and lank, and was wearing a black pair of silk harem pants with a loose cotton top. Michael smirked at her standing, lost, in the middle of her own living room.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Sure. I’ll make them.”
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