Wandering

Wandering

There are times when you find yourself wandering, your feet following your toes down a dark hallway, blankly florescent with that green hue associated with elementary learning.

Your mind is wandering, searching, as you pass by, feet thudding on the cold linoleum that gleams from a fresh clean.

The bathrooms all smell of cigarettes and fried food and the cafeteria is strangely clean.

You wander further on, dead laughter bouncing off the walls and you swear you feel someone scurry by your dressing gown. They blow slightly on your ankles and rush off, leaving you in a whirlwind like that broke down Ferris wheel where he held your hand sweating.

When you finally reach the classroom the numbers are scratched off, rudimentary, and the wood chips scatter the floor like an ashen bath. The walls are pea green and in the center of the room lies a broken desk, left behind by time.

This is where you disappear.