The Middle
Shelia ate her veggie soup at lunch in the break room at the office in the middle of downtown in the middle of the afternoon between her morning hours and afternoon hours.
Within the soup, within her broth, next to the noodles, among the vegetables and spices, a certain shape surfaced, staring back at her.
Their eyes met, both stunned to silence, both unsure of their next moves, both either afraid or too proud to continue forward.
“Hey there’s a fly in your soup.” A co-worker mumbled, not wanting to stir either consumer, not wanting to strike panic, not wanting to create even more terror.
Shelia nodded. “Thank you.” She said and proceeded to toss the soup in the trash bin, making her way to one of the concession stands at the lower level of the office, in the middle of downtown, at the end of the afternoon.
No comments:
Post a Comment