Grey chairs huddle in a semi-circle around the room. It smells stale in here as the water cooler and the air conditioner sagging in the window battle for bragging rights over the public radio announcer talking about some factoid of the Middle East. I sit alone clutching my bag unsure of this day the same as I have sat feeling unsure about all the days that came before it. The threat of feeling this way for all the days after it, weighs slightly heavier than I want.
Published by Red Fez, Red Reader #1