I've been sitting in this hallway for about half an hour and a young lady catches my eye. She's tall, thin, and has a sort of light brown hair that reminds me of my sister's. She's wearing a classy business V neck and a knee length skirt. She's probably just over twenty and she doesn't need make-up but feels the need to impress either way and looks like a clown to me. As she walks away I can taste her perfume. This is not the first time I've spent too long delaying the inevitable entrance.
By now I've spent too much time staring in one direction and realize that there is a lady in my line of sight. Just as a I realize this she catches me looking. Quickly, I avert my eyes and stare straight at the floor. "Does she think I'm staring at her? I hope she doesn't think I'm a creep". I look up to test whether or not she's still there and now she’s quickly averting her eyes to the floor.
Last year I drew a picture of my family for class. My mom, my dad, my dog and my sister where drawn on a nice background of green construction paper and although my father is Puerto Rican and my mother from Africa the white crayon is the only one making their faces. When I put it on the fridge my dad stared a bit longer and wondered where he was.
I've deliberated too long. Stepping into the waiting room I notice a few unfortunate persuasions and I sit two seats from the person that usually gets called before me. He's tall and dark, I think his name is Raymond and as of now, we're the only people occupying this 12 seater. I never cared much for his clothing and I don't think he has a job. The only thing I've heard him say was an apology for his loud headphones and a remark on how I was too young to be here alone. What the hell does he know?
That lady walks in and the first thing she notices is I'm here. We match eyes again and both look away. Not too long to be uncomfortable but at the receptionist desk she takes another gander and I pretend that I'm only looking at her direction to find a magazine that I can't read. I'm staring down from now on.
Last time I was here my doctor had a few questions about my behavior at school, saying that I was only interested in history for the wrong reasons and that my remarks to a kid after lunch were a bit unnecessary. He's trying to get to the bottom of why I would punch a negro for such a minor offense or why I swore off Belgian waffles. He wanted to know what I needed a loan for or what it is that motivated me to draw a picture in art class that didn't have any people. I remarked that I simply couldn't draw them. Hardly true. I would just rather see the world without them for a change.
By now I've spent too much time staring in one direction and realize that there is a lady in my line of sight. Just as a I realize this she catches me looking. Quickly, I avert my eyes and stare straight at the floor. "Does she think I'm staring at her? I hope she doesn't think I'm a creep". I look up to test whether or not she's still there and now she’s quickly averting her eyes to the floor.
Last year I drew a picture of my family for class. My mom, my dad, my dog and my sister where drawn on a nice background of green construction paper and although my father is Puerto Rican and my mother from Africa the white crayon is the only one making their faces. When I put it on the fridge my dad stared a bit longer and wondered where he was.
I've deliberated too long. Stepping into the waiting room I notice a few unfortunate persuasions and I sit two seats from the person that usually gets called before me. He's tall and dark, I think his name is Raymond and as of now, we're the only people occupying this 12 seater. I never cared much for his clothing and I don't think he has a job. The only thing I've heard him say was an apology for his loud headphones and a remark on how I was too young to be here alone. What the hell does he know?
That lady walks in and the first thing she notices is I'm here. We match eyes again and both look away. Not too long to be uncomfortable but at the receptionist desk she takes another gander and I pretend that I'm only looking at her direction to find a magazine that I can't read. I'm staring down from now on.
Last time I was here my doctor had a few questions about my behavior at school, saying that I was only interested in history for the wrong reasons and that my remarks to a kid after lunch were a bit unnecessary. He's trying to get to the bottom of why I would punch a negro for such a minor offense or why I swore off Belgian waffles. He wanted to know what I needed a loan for or what it is that motivated me to draw a picture in art class that didn't have any people. I remarked that I simply couldn't draw them. Hardly true. I would just rather see the world without them for a change.
That woman has left the room again and I assume she works here doing something. Her blonde hair caught my eyes again, caught my nasty shit-brown eyes that I could live to not see again. I would love to draw her but it’s not my place. She walks about and I skim her with my eyes again just in time for her to turn her head and I keep staring just off center to give the allusion that I've not seen her nor do I have interest to do so. Ray gets called and it's only a matter of time. I remember the first time I came here I had bleached my hair for apparently no reason and that was also the subject for discussion. I'm top of my fourth grade class and will dominate my fifth grade class. My final solution is to just pretend to not care about all that I do and wait until I'm old enough. The receptionist calls me. Dr. Steinenstien has got to give me a break here. Its the fourth time this week.
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