A determined coffee stains the air
but the overriding heat envelops contents
within the confines of the building.
A bell vibrates my eardrums,
and cuts through the necks of the talkative students
like a samurai sword decapitating a person
thus producing silence.
Outside, the grass in which I am laying on stings the skin.
But a Kodak scenery, nonetheless.
Then a multitude of dark grey cars fill up the parking lot.
Heat builds up into them, ready to take on their first victim,
who ever steps into the car first.
I can almost smell the weather. It is warm. I can taste it.
No comments:
Post a Comment