Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Thousand: Six Hundred Fifty-Nine

the atmosphere felt closer, warmer. A big hall doesn’t feel like that. At the very least sound carries farther so doesn’t seem all pressed together. The girl puts the keybox under her legs, her arm tired. If she looks at it, she can’t see anything else. She just sits there for a little, head sagging. Empty inside, not trying to crowd the emptiness with hopes, not picturing sanctuary around the corner, a smile from a janitor, a clean glass of water. A glass of water would be nice. She licks her lips with a gummy tongue. Idly, she rubs the


Elisabeth said...

A gummy tongue - I can almost feel it hit the roof of my mouth in that cavenous space.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

I'm thirsty, too.

Thanks, Elisabeth.