There’s always more than you think there will be. It floods out with such gusto, as if it has been waiting for this day to be free. Perhaps it is happy to be away from going through the same veins and arteries every day that it simply savors this chance to see the world. This cement floor isn’t much, but I imagine it’s a nice change of pace. I would get up and try to find some help, but I don’t think I can make it there. I wonder if anybody else knows I’m here. I suppose it doesn’t matter much.
By Tyler Gaylord