#FlashFuckingContest - Nail Marks

In frustration, I scratch my nails across the hard wood of my desk. The reverberating vibration along my fingers, the scritching, digging sound echoing through my ears, takes me back. I no longer sit at my desk, sick with a bad case of Monday on a Tuesday, but instead, arch in ecstasy atop a silky sheet, gripping and ripping your headboard to shreds as you work your magic, lifting me higher, cleansing my mind. My thoughts clear and I smile: this single mark on my tabletop is nothing but a promise of the tattered wood waiting for me after work....