Thursday, April 18, 2013

Better make it rain

i can’t believe she peed in that
chair. she walked in the office,
braces on her arms and a look
on her face that screamed

the woman took a seat right in front of me,
tried to sell me the lines that were
etched along her face due to high
stress and being broke, worried, no
one would hire her because she was disabled;
she praised the benefits she was receiving
through a third party. her body jittered
all up and down the edges, her hair
flying around, zip-lining across her face
as she mentioned how her life treated her
like a dog. she had lived a hard life.

i’m in the business of following
regulations, not believing regulations
are wrong, but enforcing rules that
aren’t always catered to the
desperate. i close my eyes, remember
that there’s nothing that can be done in
her case, no paperwork, no id on file. my
breaths become deeper as i gather the
strength for the words “i’m sorry,”

she said nothing, just stood up and went
to the seats where the rest of our guests wait to
find out their educational fate, and drenched the
cushion with her urine. it was at that moment
i understood why life treated her like a dog.  

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