There is a green sofa in our library.
A boy in black scrubs is asleep on its lush leather,
arms splayed, a notebook by his head. He looks peaceful.
He will be a doctor one of these days – but not today.
Today is for resting and mulling over flightless dreams.
Behind him, you will see another boy hunched in front of a laptop.
His brows are furrowed, and his tie is more of a noose than a corporate
embellishment. He has sighed four times in the last two minutes.
I know this because I counted.
I counted because I was staring.
I was staring because I had a thought.
“If there were an earthquake, and we all died instantly,
the boy in black would look most peaceful of us all.”
