I stand beneath a flickering light in the lonely hallway. There are no sounds leftto echo within the building. One dusty blue locker sags against its neighbor, astray paper lies wrinkled and exhausted on the floor. Long black scuff marksalternate with short gray ones and are reminders of the day. Jokes, triumphs,mistakes and haste, painted by dirty sneakers, are left for observation. I sigh,and my breath tumbles through the still air. My weary feet are stubbornlyanchored to the floor tiles, keeping me from adding my own fatigued scuff marksto the display.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.