He leaned back in his chair and yawned. This is when it darts for him, swerving at his face. ‘Mwuurrh’, came the noise from Charles’ mouth as he ducked out the way and flapped his hand.
In dim, squat light, shadows cast low across the room, he sat at his desk, nibbling the cuticles on his left hand, while he typed with one finger, the index, with his right.