Dull Again

Work is dull, it's repetitive, it's safe, it's dull and grey. I went to the canteen to buy some fruit pastels from the vending machine, hoping to inject a little colour into my afternoon but the machine ate my money and chuckled as it kept the fruit pastels from me. A tear the size of my balls rolled down my face but it was see-through and as colourless as my job.