Wednesday, May 20, 2009

State of Complainment

I am currently sitting at my desk alone in an empty office. I do not need to be here. I do not need to go home. Nothing of any particular importance needs to be done.

I am not hungry. I am not full. I am not hot. I am not cold. I am not excited. I am not bored. I am not waiting on an important document to be signed. I am not anticipating any pertinent phone calls.

If a waitress came to my table, I would tell her, "Nope, I am fine. But check back with me later. Maybe."

I walked downstairs to look out at the empty parking lot. I retrieved my lunch bag from the office kitchen refrigerator. I observed my car, sitting there, parked by itself, waiting like an ignorant loyal donkey, waiting for me to make up my mind about attacking the end of rush hour. Rush hour at this time of day is reserved for people like me – People who linger at their desks and look out at the window with blank stares, while their minds try to register the fact that the work day is done. 

It's a Civil War Summer evening, with crickets chirping and frogs croaking. A contemplative soldier paces the grassy fields at the end of a bloody battle. He kicks an abandoned boot and slaps an aggressive mosquito off his dirty forearm. The flies take over the field as the sun sets on a the golden steamy haze of victory and death.

The battle has been won. Now what?

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