We bump into each other every other day. As soon as the doors shut, we nod and pretend to be busy in our own way. Sometimes he will count the stripes on his shirt. At times I will marvel at the condition of my worn out shoe. We never wanted to break the silence within those four steel walls. For it was our own sacred space which we co-inhabited.
All the rants and raves from a brain that has endured decades of anthropological abuse.
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