person, place, or thing

everthing seemed to stoop lower today. Half-masted flags in a half-masted sky. Despite the hourly dusk, I sat in my box under the nervous flourescent lights. "What's so wrong about Christianity?" she said. The conversation came to it's predetermined close. "I guess I just don't see it that way." On the other side of town, to which I escaped computer fault in my favor, kids didn't wear suits and reasonable hairstyles to reveal how put-togather everthing about their personhood would reveal. No, across the tracks they wore haloween costumes; some because of the holiday, others for different reasons. A boy dressed to be homeless sat next to a man who really was. Who was more scared? And who was just pretending? I tried to work, but my spine nealt as my psyche played the stooping role of the day. Tomorrow is another day. Whatever my eyes can see is a person, place, or thing.