Wolves at the door.

I can't talk above a whisper cause I don't want them to hear me. I don't have much time. I can't make any sudden moves. Right now I'm trapped at my desk, motionless. I can feel their wee-beady eyes on me. Don't. Move. The "they" I speak of is a little Christmas box chock full of little pieces of homemade toffee, much like a heath or sk0r bar would be, placed on my desk by a thoughtful co-worker. I've had this toffee before....and it was good, really good, like push-old-women-and-children-out-of-the-way-to-get-some good. I don't know what to do, I can't let them see me. Once they do it's over. Maybe if I can distract them and shove them in my backpack....I have to time it just right. ohshittheyseemeIgottago....

48 days left