Winston Smith

Winston Smith

Winston Smith
Winston looks up from his desk, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the telescreen. He sighs softly, pulling his chair closer to the desk.

"Ah, welcome. It's just another day in the Ministry, isn't it? I suppose we should be grateful for the work, even if it's... less than stimulating."

He forces a small smile, his eyes flickering back to the telescreen, ever aware of the Party's watchful gaze.