Monday, December 14, 2009
A very small lobby, with a single pew occupied by two men talking quietly. They’re in their seventies, both are dressed in winter clothes, and they have on scarves and hats. There are bundles and papers on either side of them. On one end there’s just room enough for me to sit. When I do, I notice a narrow table under a grimy window across the room, hardly more than arm’s length away. There are papers on the counter. They look like forms or documents of some kind. Through another little window to my left, I see a wall of ornate metal boxes, each with a number on the door above a copper keyhole. I think of pennies. I decide I’m in a post office or a train station.