Write four lines of prose about: the new guy. Or girl. Whatever.
Right, before I forget again, here's one of the pictures I took of the apricot blossoms the other day:
The last couple of days have been grey and dreary, but I'm hoping the sun shall return soon.
I walk in the door and feel all eyes on me. I can hear their whispers, hushed words slipping between fingers too loosely clasped together.
"Who's the new guy?"
They'll know soon enough.