Small though it was, the copy room contained a threadbare but overstuffed chair she could occupy during the less labor-intensive parts of packet creation. The heat from the machines kept the space toasty, and fresh stacks of copies warmed her hands better than gloves. Nope. No way in hell she was leaving that room. She added more paper to the appropriate tray, forced the machine to accept her top-loaded packet—damn copier should have been replaced before the turn of the century—and fiddled with the settings. Collation, definitely. Staples. One step darker than default, as per usual. Two-sided
...more
