poured out before bed
As I exit the lecture hall, traverse the lobby I’ve traipsed across too many times to count and at hours too early or late to speak of, everything – the tiles, the elevator doors, the arrowed signs and medical art – everything seems more crisp, more alive. Outside the spinning doors, the sun shines a bit more brightly, the breeze a bit more spritely as it playfully buffets the puffy white clouds in a gray-blue sky. The buzz of a large number of adults turned positively adolescent rings out, crescendoing like a stenotic aortic valve as more individuals pour from the building. On the air is the scent of freshly mown grass and new dark woodchips, and … an odd kind of freedom.
The class of 2013 has just finished it’s final lecture.
A quick exam on Tuesday and we are eligible for graduation.
Come Friday, we’ll walk together en masse once more – this time to receive our diplomas.