sjsprWriting

Being in the mall before it opens is like being in a strange dream

Everything eerily still, quiet

Harsh morning light creeps up on the large building before me

A bee and a dead cockroach hang out by the stairs

I push the doors open

Squeak

Im greeted by what sounds like screeching and yelling

No

Its a group of old people dancing to salsa music

I walk through the sea of old people

dodging flailing arms

stepping over handbags

the pungent smell of old person hits me with wave after wave of increased intensity

I emerge from the chaotic ocean

As I enter the hallway to the passport office the music slowly fades away

Nothing is left but me and the hallway

White fluorescent lights

Ugly brown and cream paint

This hallway looks like certain death

Government offices always look like certain death