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September 13, 2008
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Seven pm and it’s cold and empty
And there’s a line of carts to be taken inside
A job so special, only I’m made to do it
Bright orange.  Bright orange in the parking lot.
Somebody put bright orange into this grey sky.
Dinner could’ve been somewhere besides the kitchen
And my bones could be less damp.
A pulled muscle screams at me for moving my leg
At least I’m being paid
…I assume.
Haven’t seen a paycheck yet.
Rain drips off the bridge of my nose
Drat.

Sixty miles as only as far
As it takes to get there.
Sixty miles is more time than I have.
With the homework waiting for me when I get back home at 10
I miss her and she’s sixty miles away.
Cooped up in her bunk with a cold and a stack of books to study.
And somehow, we’re both stuck where we are.

The rain stops sometimes,
But not very often.
Ten o’clock.
                                 
                        Three hours more.
11 minutes. Begun at 7 pm.

Ten o'clock.
Three hours more...
:iconb1gfan:
b1gfan Sep 14, 2008  Student Writer
you...ca...make it :D :clap:
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:iconprofessor-kirby:
Professor-Kirby Sep 14, 2008  Hobbyist Photographer
Ha, yeah, actually I wrote this from my boyfriend's perspective...I'm the "her."
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:iconb1gfan:
b1gfan Sep 14, 2008  Student Writer
ahhh....that's a neat twist :D
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