My essay is due soon. I rush to the Student Services Center; feet sore from the vast concrete desert. Constant student-chatter is panning from left to right, like the dialogue from “Charlie Brown.” The sun blistering down with an immense glare, as I realize I should have brought my sunglasses today. This particular afternoon, the heat is intense, my back radiates from friction against my heavy backpack. “How was it so cold this morning?” I ask myself while the smoggy, mechanical air fills my nostrils. I cross the street now, and arrive to my destination after a long journey. After signing in to use a computer, I make myself comfortable at the available cubicle. “My essay is due in an hour. Finally I have some peace and quiet!” I tell myself while I notice quiet chatter approaching above the carpet wall. I pay no attention to the rambling until it rises louder and louder. Two young girls sit down behind me. They obviously have no respect for those trying to get work done. I do my best to ignore the disturbance. I bite into my honey oat bar, a mixture of stale yet sweet oats, and my train of thought is pumping again. I’m nearly done and the voices get louder, as if we are all sitting down at a restaurant. “He just doesn’t love me, he can’t commit to me,” screeches from the mouths of the young girls who can’t keep quiet about their boyfriend issues. My essay is due.
The Bolt Magazine 