Just Wrapping Up
I sat in the office in the unwinding day, synthesizing forms for some incoherent purpose. The hours slipped into darker darkness. Neon lights pulsed through the window while waves washed their rushing sound against the shore. A woman and her son appeared, needing to use the space. Moving among my things, the young boy announced every object he picked up, before dismissing it for its failings. He had nothing but criticisms for me and my work. Wounded, I hastily packed my things while apologizing and made my way to the elevator through the winding subterranean corridors, dim and worn. The late hour had escaped my attention and the station was closed. I would have to find another way home.