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The Receptionist

S
samurai
·December 06, 2002·1 min read

Enroute to work, I pass her space.

Every morn as I pass, walking, by the wall of glass, I see her.

Sometimes she’s on the phone, almost always alone, with her computer.

In her eyes I can see, A vacant look of clarity, as I reach, the elevator.

Isolated, Is she sad? Or is it just my mind’s fad? I wonder!

What stayed with you?

A line that lingered, a feeling, a disagreement. Great comments are as valuable as the original piece.

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