The security camera surveyed coldly the lone occupant of the room. Nothing escaped its notice.

Various officers had come and gone but now the man was sitting alone at the table. The camera's red light blinked at him inexorably.

Short, squat, and out of date, it was the forgotten by-product of a long ignored ruling from a dusty manual.

No one ever bothered to check its film. There was always an officer outside, observing, anyway. So it just hung there from the ceiling, its red light cowing into submission anyone foolish enough to note its existence.

It was an impartial observer of all the strange sights that went on below, removed from the action, as it were; it was almost like the god of the room, watching yet never interfering.

The fact that the man there in front of it had just had his heart broken for the second time had no effect on it. It had never been taught to care.

Even if it had, the man was very boring. He just sat there, ignoring everyone who came in. Until the woman arrived.

The camera eyed them disinterestedly as they kissed. It had seen a much better kiss just three days ago.

Then the room began to fill with people. The security camera, in accordance with its duty, carefully and uselessly recorded all their reactions. It had no idea that its only utility was satisfying a higher-up in a black suit. So it stared on, meticulously storing evidence that would never be required.

The black man was smug.

The asian man had no expression.

The two officers were mad.

The woman was very happy.

The man was tired and hopeful.

Though the camera had no capability for sound, it could tell that a large shouting match had started. Eventually they all filed out, with the man, leaning heavily on the woman, leaving last.

In the corner, a lone red light blinked steadily on in the darkness, king of its tiny kingdom.

Nothing escaped its notice.