Buzz. Beep. Slam and up and run the shower – hiss – ah, that’s better! Must I get out? Yes, you must, and get dressed, left and right, and tie and tie and tie and go.
Getting chillier, isn’t it? And so it is, commute comrade, and so it is – isn’t it? Yes, so it is. Every morning. Late, also, every morn– oh, there it is! and queue and beep and watch where you’re going, the little you can see through wishful doodles of the sun on misty windows.
Off, hurry, the bustle, the crowd, the loose slab that says hello with a bump and accepts the splash of coffee in return, really doing better than the rest of us.
Beep and ping, going to the fourth floor by way of the first, the second, the sixth, the third, after you, no, after you—
Morning, morning, not too bad, you? Smashing—let me just… Buttons, passwords, wrong, blasted, typo, what’s the--I’m in! Oh, that email, I thought I’d— log in, and in, and in, in too deep to leave, Miss 1d0ntwannabeh3r3.
Ringing beeping alerting, ringing beeping alerting—alarming! click and click and click and God I need a break—where? Balcony? Boss. Stairwell? Painters. Street? Forget it. Kitchen? As if… “The meeting—”
A miracle. A haven. Heaven!
And when did the sun come out?
When did it all start to go so wrong? How much longer yet? What do you think, little bird – lucky to be on that side of the glass. Not much? An optimist. So was I, before—
“Here, you are! We’re starting—”
Sigh, yes, coming, and sit and talk and sit and talk and course it’s pouring out there again and was there ever a bird at all?