Asbestos really never went out of style. At least, that's what this dorm would suggest. Even the bricks look a sickly green along the corridors to the front desk. Too bad they don't inspire any fear, then I'd have a story.
"Raul, where'd you leave the laundry?", says Nicholas.
"Hell if I know."
"Found it.", sighed Nicholas.
God, I love the midday sun through these windows. Already from my waist to the ceiling, the windows seem to grow ever bigger with that great gas giant looking through. The rays from the wide skyed sun could make even our dingy, textured, and beige walls something worthy of a portrait.
"Are you packed?", asked Nic.
"All except for my charger."
"It's in the socket."
I grab it. He never can choke back a smile when he thinks that he's pulled a funny one on me. Alas, it's cute anyways.
Standing in between two aluminum bunk beds, tall and skeletal, we zip up our bags. I'm the first to leave through the door. When the dorm was first built, they used copper plated knobs on the doors. As time went on, they replaced them one at a time in order to save money. Ours has yet to break, and so shines a bright blue-green in that ever so gray hallway.
Walking through the lobby, it is strange to see so many people. All of their faces look the same. Their hair and eyes and lips and gait and whatever else all blur and achieve singularity. I turn and face Nic. The moon moves so close as to let me touch it.
Down the front steps, over the uneven and sun bleached pavement, through the convection oven of the parking lot, and down the grand promenade of identical cars, we finally arrived at my ever so reliable car. Her name is Didi.
