On Passing the Time

My last deadline was a week ago. My conscience is lighter, my back is straighter and my hair is shorter.

The more endearing of my flaws rest in the department building. One lies inbetween others like it. It keeps to itself and speaks when spoken to. The other hangs on the wall for all to see.

There, watching, she stands for a moment. She'll look up at an image before looking into it.

Five days since I first met her, this is the fourth night that I've seen her. The only time that I run out of things to say is when I watch the words fall from her lips.