It starts as a confusing mess of random sounds.
Becker doing crosswords and not getting anywhere. Sullivan’s frantic “drunk-drummer” impression. Connor blogging. Abby and Parker drinking tea.
The click of a pen, the slap on a knee, the tap on the laptop, the clink in two mugs.
Click. Slap. Tap. Clink.
Invisible strings of rhythm.
Click.
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