When someone opens the door on another using the restroom, who is at fault? The person that opened the door or the person that didn’t lock it?
He’s moving slowly. Balancing a too-full coffee cup, back slightly arched, thinking a lot about something that doesn’t require a lot of thought, and I’m not quite certain, but I imagine if he were to not take the task so seriously, he’d be more efficient at it. His pace would be quicker, his back would be straight, and the liquid inside wouldn’t be trying to squirm its way out of his intense focus.
You know those computer graphic models of future buildings and the fake people the computer programs put inside? The fake people that walk around to display how people will fit, their movements are rigid, methodical and mechanical. Forced
I think of us. And how when these buildings, or theme parks, or whatever are built, we’ll be moving in them as well. Our movements will be methodical, and it seems so weird – the predictability of it all.
Disagreeable woman. Sharp eyes, an impatient voice, and a cup of tea that the barista can’t make correctly.