In Butler, a waste land of sorts.

10 May

After a lovely outdoors lunch with Dan, the library is looking much dimmer.

Especially since the only place I could find a seat was by the window on the sixth floor. No outlet. The desk is positioned at a weird angle, so my arms are hurting already.

And oh, the view. A room with a horrible, disgusting view. Directly in front of me is a dirty window with a sign, advising all those inside to keep the windows shut due to noise and dust and “tar smells.” Yum. Immediately beyond this window is a red-brick wall, dotted with older white stones. Beyond that is a green (not copper) roof with horizontal slats that I cannot identify. To the left is the wall of Carman, and we all know what that looks like—from here, some tacky motel. And it took me a full 15 minutes to find this seat.

So here I am, procrastinating still.


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