I can smell coffee drifting through the air like silk
And in through my window, birdsong swirls in
On the warm summer breeze
Laughter fills the room,
I stretch,
And I smile.....

I can smell the coffee from the teachers lounge, making my stomach bellow involuntary whale calls
And in through the window, bird sing, laughing at me, stuck inside
And the wind is hot, too hot, it's stuffy in here.
Laughter drifts in from the hall, from the throats of teachers who are already free of this hell.
I stretch, trying to get comfortable on the metal chair forged from the depths of the underworld,
Grimace, a smile of pain,
And return to reading paragraph three.
One.
More.
Hour.