At This Moment

At this moment, I see some sort of fake animal sewn around the hood of the coat in front of me. I hear a piece of lead squeaking like nails on a chalkboard on a neighbor's paper. I smell the pink soap from the restroom in the cracks of my hand. I taste breakfast hiding in-between my teeth. I feel green stripes running the length of both arms. I am thinking about how dang intimidated I feel in this class.

At this moment, I see a boy struggling to keep his books in his arms as he contorts to get from his wallet the dollar that will win him the chips in the candy machine. I hear the news lady babbling on about this doomed world’s coming elections. I smell a mix of familiar but indefinable chips and candies. I taste cracked, dry lips, feeling sad towards their owner for not having chapstick. I feel noodles, chicken, broccoli, pineapple, and teriyaki sauce being unwillingly digested in my stomach. I am thinking about how great it is that 26 letters can mix and mingle to make so many different words for me to use.

At this moment, I see hardly anything due to the single 40-watt bulb in this room with my sleeping roommate. I hear the steady beat of music in my ears, muting the scratching of my pen on the paper. I smell Mary Kay lotion moistening my cold, dry hands. I taste minty plastic- the taste of a newly brushed retainer. I feel microscopic robots biting and itching just under my skin. I am thinking about how right my mother was ten years ago when she warned me that if I kept sitting Indian style my knees would eventually pay.

At this moment, I see red and white galoshes, protecting feet from the snow. I hear hundreds of voices- never a pause- carrying conversations through the open air. I smell the wonderful old-person scent coming from my newly bought D.I. pink sweater. I taste Blistex- temporarily protecting my chafed, chapped, cracked, or wind burned lips- complete moisture with super-hydrating ingredients for a surge of moisture. I feel everything but my left foot, which is going numb, crossed under my body. I am thinking about the ache my fingertips hold on to hours after coming in from the cold.

1.8,9.8