There is a certain rhythm to life
A way things work
I have ten minutes till class
And a long distance to go
But I’m not worried
The rest of the world matches my pace
They too are in a hurry
Before my eyes people cross and wind around each other
Never bumping, never disturbing
It’s like a beautiful dance played before me everyday
Now it’s my turn to dance
I turn right just one step before that energetic blond girl continues straight behind me
She’d be quite beautiful, striking really, except for her habit of chewing her face while walking
I think it’s a nervous habit
She must be very nervous
I continue on in my new direction
A step faster, but so is everyone else
I’m almost there
I see the steps ahead of me
For every step up hunchback boy takes one down
It’s like the changing of the guards
Me for him
I often wonder how he knows where he’s going
He never looks up and his shoulders are so slumped to the sidewalk that his book bag very much resembles a hump
I wonder what pain and suffering he has endured
The thought passes and into class I go
I sit as the lecture begins
Everything in order
Everything right
Today my rhythm is off
Everyone’s rhythm is off
I have eight minutes instead of ten
I quicken my pace
But everyone else is a step behind
I try to weave in and out
But that slows me further
I discover that the beautiful dance I enjoy so much is actually a living, breathing being that traps all in its expanding and contracting
I bump shoulders and trip
Wildly I break right, eager for the quickened pace, running right into chewing face girl
Picking myself up, I apologize continuing on
Although, now in my daze, I’m a step behind
I struggle to keep up
Finally I see my steps and break free
Although my hunchback has long since gone
How did the guards change without me?
Did someone take my place,
Or did he just abandon his post with no sign of relief?
Shaken I enter the lecture hall
The lesson has begun
My seat is taken
I spot one
In the middle
I hate making a scene, but I must
Or go home
Scuse me, scuse me, pardon me
I sit
All eyes on me
The world is out of
Its rhythm