Low Poly Office

3docean

The office space is a sprawling, open-plan area, dominated by rows of sleek, low-poly workstations that seem to stretch on forever. The walls are painted a dull grey, and the floors are made of cold, gleaming tile. In one corner, a small coffee machine sits atop a pedestal, dispensing lukewarm beverages to the office drones who shuffle past it throughout the day. Behind the front desk, a lone receptionist sits, her eyes fixed on a computer screen as she taps away at the keyboard with a look of practiced boredom. The air is thick with the smell of stale coffee and worn leather chairs, and the sound of murmured conversations drifts through the space like a steady hum. To one side, a small kitchen area beckons, its countertops cluttered with yesterday's leftovers and crumpled up paper cups. A lone microwave sits on a counter, its door slightly ajar as if awaiting its next victim. The office is a place where time stands still, where the only movement is the slow creep of dust motes dancing in the faint light that filters through the grimy windows. In this bleak, low-poly world, creativity seems to be a distant memory, lost in the sea of beige and grey that surrounds it. The office is a prison, a place where dreams go to die, and the only escape is the occasional glance out the window at the vibrant, high-definition world outside.