well im sitting at a desk right know im on twitter instead of working and listening to secular music instead of listening to christian music oh yah im a rebel
Elik slowly entered the room and immediately noticed the desk. He wasn’t sure whether he should open the drawers, as he had been warned not to search the house. It would be dangerous to be caught by the master of this massive home.
It was as if Edgar Allen Poe was at his writing desk, dreaming up new tales to tell. He thought this had to be the way it happens! “Before I know it I’ll start saying ‘doth'”, he said to himself. He picked up a cursor and moved it to the head of the Word page.
‘It was as if he was possessed’, he began…
I sat at the desk as I contemplated the sound of the coffee pot. It reminds me vaguely of rain on the tin roof. I miss that sound. Monsoon feels sad but somehow no monsoon is much more depressing.
The sun beat down on her. She took out her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her brow. And once again cursed her stupid formative years.
I could have been a contender. I could have had a nice cushy desk job. But no. I’m out here in the sun, keeping guard. God.”
She never saw the bullet that slammed into her forehead and pushed her body down into the shade.
There are ants in the office today. They’re crawling all over the desks and chairs. If you look around the room you’re bound to see at least two scurrying across the floor. They’re big ones too. I blame the cleaning staff, personally, as they never empty the trashes on Friday and thus there is tempting treats for ants and bugs.
Here i sit at my desk all day, wondering if i am actually making a difference. Does the size of my desk matter, or the fact that is a table rather than an actual desk?
holds everything, and no matter how much i tidy you, you accumulate my clutter! what’s wrong with you? you are all that’s wrong with my organisational skills. This desk works, my other doesn’t, pens roll off and it’s all rather unsatisfactory.
Sitting at my desk, as I stare out into the dark cloudy skies. Just another routinely day at the office. I turn my head back to my table as I stare at the contents placed on it. My desk is filled with work items, but other than those things… nostalgic little items, that reminded me of what I actually really wanted to do, as a little kid.
I never could sit at a desk to write creatively. My body, like my thoughts, need to sprawl across a surface like a bed where I can flex my mind and my words more fluidly which is something I cannot achieve while sitting rigid and stiff at a desk. I need to absolutely roll around in the ideas.
I am sitting in front of my desk waiting this game to end because I want to know the aim of it. What’s happening next? Who knows? Am I waisting my time? Probably, yes! But whatever, if you don’t try, you
There, on top of what used to be something that adorned a forest, snakes beneath, squirrels in, birds above, below, on and through, was nothing, a barren top, save a few folders with neatly printed labels. Each day when he left his desk, he cleaned it off. “I don’t want anyone to walk in and know that anyone works here.”
Lestrade sighed as he parked his motorcycle in the alley next to his new apartment. Hurrying inside before the brooding clouds overhead decided to open fire, he ducked in the doorframe and checked his mail. A couple bills greeted him, alongside a firm white envelope marked with the royal seal. Curious, he hung his riding jacket up and brought the mail into the kitchen. The bills could be dealt with later; the unusual envelope would be his reading material over dinner.
The kippers and crackers were a sorry contrast to the fancy penmanship that greeted him under the heading, “From the desk of Mycroft Holmes.”
Squinting to make out the letters hidden in the loopy scrawl, Lestrade could make out what appeared to be an invitation. A garden party? Greg never got invited to these sorts of events, and he wasn’t sure that now was the time to start. He would have to have a word with Mycroft about dragging commoners and policemen into the posh world of the parlaiment.
Although, Greg conceded silently to himself, Mycroft was probably more than familiar with the intricacies of the situation. The DI wondered if this was a challenge, to see if he could step up to the plate and adapt to a new situation.
If so, he agreed with a nod at the imposing letter, challenge accepted.
I sat at the desk wondering if he would have the guts to go through with our plan. Just as I began to think that he had chickened out I herd the blare of the fire alarm and I knew that he had done it . Later I saw him in the hallway “how did I do?” he asked. “Great” I said “welcome to the club”
The first thing that comes to mind about a desk is something school related, or like what you set your things on. Another thing that makes me remind of desk is something I can read, write, and draw on. Or like a desktop computer.
Some where in a class to do your work. The place that you wouldn’t realize as a kid that is going to take you to better places in life.For my intelligent level, I give thanks to a desk.Some day, ill be sitting in an office with a big picture window, files to my left, and book shelves to my right, at my DESK!
today I sat on my desk and began wondering why i do it everyday without thinking about it, it’s not great deal but maybe if i wonder that every day i could be more productive.
I sat at my desk waiting for the teacher to call on me, then it happened.
well im sitting at a desk right know im on twitter instead of working and listening to secular music instead of listening to christian music oh yah im a rebel
Elik slowly entered the room and immediately noticed the desk. He wasn’t sure whether he should open the drawers, as he had been warned not to search the house. It would be dangerous to be caught by the master of this massive home.
The only thing missing was the desk clock. Hanna knew the safty deposit key was inside of it.
uhhhhhwellllllll…errrrrrrrr….that is………………..dang!
It was as if Edgar Allen Poe was at his writing desk, dreaming up new tales to tell. He thought this had to be the way it happens! “Before I know it I’ll start saying ‘doth'”, he said to himself. He picked up a cursor and moved it to the head of the Word page.
‘It was as if he was possessed’, he began…
There it is, the place where everything is. Was. Happened. Flat and empty, now. Quiet, finally, without its papers and bustling pens.
I sat at the desk as I contemplated the sound of the coffee pot. It reminds me vaguely of rain on the tin roof. I miss that sound. Monsoon feels sad but somehow no monsoon is much more depressing.
The sun beat down on her. She took out her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her brow. And once again cursed her stupid formative years.
I could have been a contender. I could have had a nice cushy desk job. But no. I’m out here in the sun, keeping guard. God.”
She never saw the bullet that slammed into her forehead and pushed her body down into the shade.
There are ants in the office today. They’re crawling all over the desks and chairs. If you look around the room you’re bound to see at least two scurrying across the floor. They’re big ones too. I blame the cleaning staff, personally, as they never empty the trashes on Friday and thus there is tempting treats for ants and bugs.
Here i sit at my desk all day, wondering if i am actually making a difference. Does the size of my desk matter, or the fact that is a table rather than an actual desk?
I sat there, staring into space. No words came to mind. My paper was blank as it laid upon the desk, white.
I am typing on a desk.
holds everything, and no matter how much i tidy you, you accumulate my clutter! what’s wrong with you? you are all that’s wrong with my organisational skills. This desk works, my other doesn’t, pens roll off and it’s all rather unsatisfactory.
Sitting at my desk, as I stare out into the dark cloudy skies. Just another routinely day at the office. I turn my head back to my table as I stare at the contents placed on it. My desk is filled with work items, but other than those things… nostalgic little items, that reminded me of what I actually really wanted to do, as a little kid.
I never could sit at a desk to write creatively. My body, like my thoughts, need to sprawl across a surface like a bed where I can flex my mind and my words more fluidly which is something I cannot achieve while sitting rigid and stiff at a desk. I need to absolutely roll around in the ideas.
I am sitting in front of my desk waiting this game to end because I want to know the aim of it. What’s happening next? Who knows? Am I waisting my time? Probably, yes! But whatever, if you don’t try, you
There, on top of what used to be something that adorned a forest, snakes beneath, squirrels in, birds above, below, on and through, was nothing, a barren top, save a few folders with neatly printed labels. Each day when he left his desk, he cleaned it off. “I don’t want anyone to walk in and know that anyone works here.”
Desk is something you write on when i think of a desk i think of work and school.
Lestrade sighed as he parked his motorcycle in the alley next to his new apartment. Hurrying inside before the brooding clouds overhead decided to open fire, he ducked in the doorframe and checked his mail. A couple bills greeted him, alongside a firm white envelope marked with the royal seal. Curious, he hung his riding jacket up and brought the mail into the kitchen. The bills could be dealt with later; the unusual envelope would be his reading material over dinner.
The kippers and crackers were a sorry contrast to the fancy penmanship that greeted him under the heading, “From the desk of Mycroft Holmes.”
Squinting to make out the letters hidden in the loopy scrawl, Lestrade could make out what appeared to be an invitation. A garden party? Greg never got invited to these sorts of events, and he wasn’t sure that now was the time to start. He would have to have a word with Mycroft about dragging commoners and policemen into the posh world of the parlaiment.
Although, Greg conceded silently to himself, Mycroft was probably more than familiar with the intricacies of the situation. The DI wondered if this was a challenge, to see if he could step up to the plate and adapt to a new situation.
If so, he agreed with a nod at the imposing letter, challenge accepted.
I sat at the desk wondering if he would have the guts to go through with our plan. Just as I began to think that he had chickened out I herd the blare of the fire alarm and I knew that he had done it . Later I saw him in the hallway “how did I do?” he asked. “Great” I said “welcome to the club”
The first thing that comes to mind about a desk is something school related, or like what you set your things on. Another thing that makes me remind of desk is something I can read, write, and draw on. Or like a desktop computer.
Some where in a class to do your work. The place that you wouldn’t realize as a kid that is going to take you to better places in life.For my intelligent level, I give thanks to a desk.Some day, ill be sitting in an office with a big picture window, files to my left, and book shelves to my right, at my DESK!
desktop student desk clerk school job secretary assistant computers
school, sitting at, put your stuff on it.
I sit at this everyday non-stop.
the teacher barely has to sit here during the day.
my little table.
made of fake wood.
we sit in little groups
clean in school.
I want summer to come.
today I sat on my desk and began wondering why i do it everyday without thinking about it, it’s not great deal but maybe if i wonder that every day i could be more productive.
I sat at the desk all school year and I can’t wait to get out. The summer time is coming, and I can’t wait!
I am siting at my desk right now(:
The first thing that pop ups to my head when I hear desk is school and work.