shrink wrapped

An ode, a murmur, an urge, the faint whisper constantly drumming away in the back of your head.
They call me, beckoning, watching, waiting.
I will join them eventually.

You will not always live the life you need.

I am drinking coffee in the hotel lobby.

The carpets were once a rich red – faded now, I must admit. The young man at the front desk has not been at home within himself for years.

 I don’t think he notices me.