The Sunken Panel

The drawing office of a bridge engineering firm in Southern California in late afternoon, warm sunlight in stripes through venetian blinds, against the wall a desk-high computer cabinet in grey-brown paint with a chrome strip and a black ventilation plinth, at its upper right a recessed panel with a row of pale keys, every key blank and every surface plain and unmarked, on a shelf at its left a grey typewriter terminal, paper tape curling down into a wire basket, two women operators seen from directly behind, faces turned fully away, in short-sleeved summer dresses, one typing, the other pressing a key on the sunken panel.