I could sit here hungry for hours.
Iced air slipping up wool coat sleeves.
One foot a little sore in my cowboy boots.
No secret cigarettes while people gather in the concrete lobby. [i smell it]
Waiting. I think all a little hungry yet from breakfast.
Ready for some work to be done inside.
Hearts just pumping in neutral until some bit of newness comes. A green light to go in. To seek. To learn. To grasp.
Every minute another set of eyes
Walks in to watch the rest
Waiting.
In hand:
Books on plumbing, teenage novellas, manuals, spiral bound books, backpacks, briefcases, sharp suits, and ratted coats.
We all value the library enough to wait for it to open.