My Room

I was in the doctor’s office waiting room long enough so that I felt like it was my room. There were my magazines that I just don’t seem to read. I had my choice of nearly comfy chairs. I liked the sparkle of my candy bowl. I liked that my TVs didn’t bombard me with sound, but instead gently showed me their words. My posters inspired me to be healthy and that if I didn’t feel up to it I had pills to help me do the job.

The funny part were the other people in my room. We didn’t talk with each other. We didn’t see each others eyes. It was obvious we didn’t want to sit next to each other. But on a deeper level, we were spiritual together. We respected each others quietness. I thought, “I wonder if they think this is their room?”