She was very comfortable in her chair. With her beautiful green eyes she burned her novel with passion. The mood was perfect. She was very warm and cozy, safe from the cold teeth of the early winter. The theme of the novel was in tone, near ending a chapter full of adrenaline... her blood boiled. Suddenly, her fantasy was shattered by a raging sound filled with bad omens. It was the sound of a technological terror without precedence. Her phone is ringing. Her climax was turned into a frustrating anti-climax.<br/><br/>She walked to the phone table, picked up, after a few interference noises, she recognized who was calling. The background noise was very familiar, lot of people talking, some screaming, others crying. It was the call of duty.<br/><em>- O'Connell? Are you there O'Connell? </em><br/>With a sad voice she acknowledges, although she loves her job, sometimes (specially these times) it can be overwhelming.<br/><em>- Oh hi, O'Connell! Is me, Robinson, the Captain asked for you. </em><br/>Robinson, Robinson. Good guy, well intended, little brain. He is like the lap dog of the Captain, sometimes she wonder if that hides some other truth.<br/><em>- See you later on the station O'Connell. </em><br/>