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#deskjob
Just a minute left before I should pinball out of my building doors and speed over past the new high riser, gust of wind pushing against my little body, tiny amongst these buildings going up. My eyes switch between the time and the streets, My feet fall soft and I’m safe. The trains not here yet and then it is, and then I sit and I rip my book out of my lunch bag, ticket tucked under my bookmark In case the conductor don’t see me I’ve been reading about the golden state killer. Rye’s a five minute warning and then I’m speeding out of another door down the stairs past the elderly, across one of the many ****** Port Chester streets difficult to cross but I’m walking my legs dart fast past the head shop and the bread shop and my nose is filled with sweet and sour. I walk faster- avoiding the CEO he rides the same train and I don’t want to talk. So I march forward and don’t look back. I get closer and mentally flip off the line of five short men catcalling me in Spanish, all the while peeking in to the brisa marina window to see if there’s anything my herbivorous mouth could swallow, but i don’t break my stride. They’re practically a butcher anyway. I climb the stairs to the entrance, stepping beyond the dead baby bird carcass I was hoping some other animal would consume yesterday and the avocado shell that would have been good to bury it with. I try to shake the thought of impending doom as I swipe myself in Still going as fast as i can so that I don’t have to hold the door open for the CEO Call me petty, but I do enough of his bidding on a day to day And I ascend to age 5 years for 10 hours. And then I run home just to do it all over again the next morning.
0
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 11:15 PM UTC
come mute
Just a minute left before I should pinball out of my building doors and speed over past the new high riser, gust of wind pushing against my little body, tiny amongst these buildings going up. My eyes switch between the time and the streets, My feet fall soft and I’m safe. The trains not here yet and then it is, and then I sit and I rip my book out of my lunch bag, ticket tucked under my bookmark In case the conductor don’t see me I’ve been reading about the golden state killer. Rye’s a five minute warning and then I’m speeding out of another door down the stairs past the elderly, across one of the many ****** Port Chester streets difficult to cross but I’m walking my legs dart fast past the head shop and the bread shop and my nose is filled with sweet and sour. I walk faster- avoiding the CEO he rides the same train and I don’t want to talk. So I march forward and don’t look back. I get closer and mentally flip off the line of five short men catcalling me in Spanish, all the while peeking in to the brisa marina window to see if there’s anything my herbivorous mouth could swallow, but i don’t break my stride. They’re practically a butcher anyway. I climb the stairs to the entrance, stepping beyond the dead baby bird carcass I was hoping some other animal would consume yesterday and the avocado shell that would have been good to bury it with. I try to shake the thought of impending doom as I swipe myself in Still going as fast as i can so that I don’t have to hold the door open for the CEO Call me petty, but I do enough of his bidding on a day to day And I ascend to age 5 years for 10 hours. And then I run home just to do it all over again the next morning.
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sitting blankly in this chair again, feet planted firmly on this patterned carpet. the air conditioner hums softly, pulling me with the soft cushion of coldness. exhaustion drags my eyes down, away from the glaring lights of this screen. voices droning on in the background, smiles, handshakes, "how do you do?"'s. the ringing phone sounds like one big sigh, i suppose it's just another Monday.
0
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC
What Did You Expect?