Slips of paper were tossed onto the surface without a care. They landed in haphazard heaps, taking up far more space than they ought to. Dust blanketed every part of the surface that wasn’t touched in the immediate past. An elastic band peeked out at her through the jungle of books, notebooks, pens, a stamp, a stapler. An attempt at organization was evident in the stack of novels in one corner and the similar looking files in the other. The desk looked alarmingly close to a lost cause.
Even though it wasn’t hers, the mess rang a bell of familiar frustration and resignation. Her daughter was taking after her.
My second 100-word story. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.