The conference room smells like grease, leather, and aftershave. The attendees, mostly men, scarf down pizza and sit on colorful plastic chairs. They're talking about cutting-edge technology, while pretending that they're in a school cafeteria. There are board games stacked on every table.
The giant seated ballerina looks like a float that broke off from a parade and came to rest among skyscrapers.
Ten years ago, did you imagine your life as it is now? (When I ask her this, she shakes her head and frowns.) So that means that ten years from now, your life may also become something you can't currently imagine. Hopefully in a good way. You aren't stuck.
After demanding that he prove his identity, they ask him a bunch of questions about himself. Like, "What's your nickname for string cheese?" He answers each one, but they look skeptical, telling him that they're not sure it's really him. These are the kind of mind games older siblings come up with.
Building a fragile trust with the baby, who smiles with saliva-bubbly lips and then breaks into a wail.
Sunlight, green leaves, and a pale gray pond in the early morning.
Balloons float off into a dusky sky as the orchestra warms up.