Finals Week

Finals Week


He stumbled onto the 8th floor. Checked the sign as he walked through the door. Blue and green plaid, short sleeved shirt. And jeans that looked like his mother had purchased them. Slightly attractive, slightly confused. His little boy, big blue eyes barely open.

"I need to turn in this paper for professor Hartley."

"You can drop it in his box," I pointed. "Two doors down on the right. There are two boxes, his is the bottom."

He stumbled in the direction I pointed, "one, two..."

He stopped and turned around. I rolled my grey-green office chair back to see what happened.

"I'm really tired," he said as he turned to the left.

"It's on your right. There are boxes on the wall. His is the bottom one." After a few seconds pause, he turned around and scanned the wall. He turned left, looking down the hall further.

"Right there."

He somehow managed to put his paper in the box and staggered back toward the door.

"Have a nice afternoon!" he said, half way there.

"Thanks. You too." I smiled at 10.54 am.

"Think happy thoughts."

"Thanks. You too," I smiled.

He pushed the button the the elevator, mumbling to himself. When the red arrow pointed downwards, he touched the doors, and pulled the crack between them. They opened. He stepped on.

"Think happy thoughts."