Links
     
    
   
   
    
     
      I
      stand
      there
     
    

    
     
      talking
      to
      some
      guy,
     
    

    
     
      trying
      to
      take
      in
     
    

    
     
      everything
      he
      says.
     
    

    
     
      Giving
      him
      all
      my
      attention.
     
     
      But
      my
      eyes
      notice,
     
    

    
     
      that
      my
      shoelace
      is
      undone.
     
     
      A
      white
      lace,
     
    

    
     
      lying
      on
      a
      black
      tile.
     
    

    
     
      My
      lace
      and
      foot
      are
     
     
      connected
      to
      the
      floor.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      I
      try
      to
      focus,
     
    

    
     
      but
      my
      eyes
      keep
     
    

    
     
      returning
      to
      the
      floor,
     
    

    
     
      with
      it’s
      checkered
      accuracy,
     
     
      Square
      Black,
     
    

    
     
      Square
      White.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Looking
      forward
     
    

    
     
      I
      see
      a
      chair,
     
    

    
     
      attached
      to
      the
      floor.
     
     
      On
      the
      chair
     
    

    
     
      there
      was
      a
      word
     
     
      —”Shit”—
     
    

    
     
      Why
      is
      this
      there?
     
    

    
     
      I
      doubt
      the
      person
     
     
      who
      made
      the
      chair,
     
     
      is
      named
      Mr.
      Shit..
     
     
      Maybe
      a
      boring
      class,
     
     
      or
      a
      stupid
      person,
     
    

    
     
      is
      the
      cause.
     
    

    
     
      Or
      maybe
      it
      was
      a
      note
     
    
   
   
    
     
      of
      something
      that
      had
      to
      be
      done.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      I
      don’t
      know!
     
     
      It’s
      useless!
     
    
   
   
    
     
      From
      the
      chair
      to
     
    

    
     
      the
      floor,
      my
      eyes
      return.
     
     
      Advancing
      across
      the
      floor.
     
     
      Square
      Black
     
    

    
     
      Square
      White.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Then
      the
      floor
      links
     
     
      to
      a
      foot,
      which
      links
     
     
      to
      a
      leg,
      up
      and
      up
     
    

    
     
      it
      links
      to
      a
      head.
     
    

    
     
      It’s
      a
      man.
     
    

    
     
      Some
      guy.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      He’s
      talking
     
     
      For
      how
      long?
     
     
      I
      don’t
      know.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Our
      eyes
      meet,
     
     
      he
      stops
      talking,
     
     
      and
      waits.
     
    

    
     
      I
      smile,
     
    

    
     
      nod
      and
      say
     
    

    
     
      “I
      completely
      agree.”
     
    
   
   
    
     
      He
      says
     
     
      “Good-bye,”
     
    

    
     
      and
      steps
      away,
     
     
      Square
      Black,
     
     
      Square
      White,
     
     
      out
      of
      the
      room,
     
     
      which
      connects
      to
     
     
      a
      hall.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Who
      was
      that
      guy?
     
    
   
   
    
     
      —Alex
      Field