3B48 (Impressions of a classroom on the Côte D’Azur)

The light floods in, its coldness a relief from the burning sun outside. The room is sterile but somehow reminds me of rooms in which I’ve sweated in the past – perhaps in dreams.

The inhabitants cannot see me. I am alone, observing but unobserved. It is not as liberating as one might expect.

Outside, I would be just another man. Anonymous on the streets of this foreign town. Here, I am not even that.

I sit, in control of my mind and my thoughts. Oddly tranquil. Somehow soothing. I contemplate many things at my own pace. How many lives lived here, and in what spirit?

There is concrete underfoot. Reassuring.

There is rustling, muttering, coughing. I grow tired.

The coldness is a comfort. But I could happily be colder.

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About dcduell

Failed musician. Trying to write for TV. Never sure quite where I'm headed. Serial un-funnyman. I used to do a lot of writing. Sometimes I still do. So I decided to put it on the internet. I'm on Facebook and Twitter. Pretty active on the former, not so much on the latter. Holler at me.
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