The Happenings of the Halls 2

The Happenings of the Halls 2

The blue haired guy was stalking the passageways seeking something to

devour – becoming more and more attracted to the humming illumination of

showcased calories, proteins, and fats clothed in multi-colored disguises of trickery,

pulling him in closer as they dangled strangely untouched yet in reach only by the use

of order of the item number punch board. As he becomes frenziedly sold on

pushing his bizarrely miniature hands deep into his strikingly chained and zippered

trousers, moving and scrounging hectically through the mosaic of receipts, pennies,

dimes and pocket-lint that has accumulated throughout the week, trying to beat the

class bell for the day, as this was all occurring, I found myself oddly possessed with

the verdict of this guy's junk-fuel choice. I swiveled my head in hopes of my body

trailing after, taking me out of this crazy Twilight-Zone T.V. show moment. I treaded

around the corner, never witnessing what he chose and discovering myself noting the

walls propping up snapshots of other students' obsessions and art, walls coated with

various electric outlets and people almost like they were adhered to these walls with

their music players, laptops, and chargers gobbling up electricity as if they were

livestock gorging on fields of grass. I witnessed couples drifting throughout the halls

and people with their pecking fingers texting, and faces of every sort of emotion

speaking without even opening their lips. Even the liquid coolers suspended on the

walls appeared to be a bit alive as they also drank electricity and then, with the

students drinking the water, it seemed, just for a bit, to be a trend or cycle. Electricity

bearing something physical only to be siphoned out or chosen by these oblivious students of everything surrounding them, the streaming pens and

paper being filled up by their creations and ideas, the shining EXIT lights, and the

warp of gray shine through the semi-transparent glass cubes making up sections of

the walls, shielding us from the outer elements of this edifice. Then I turned another

corner of the building, realizing with all the happenings of the halls that no one has

heard the singing of the worn out cooling motors in the vending machines, and the

annoying chopping of whatever medium is pulled through the maw of a three foot

multi-volt paper shredder that is chomping down paper quicker than you could tear

them out of your notebook. As it feasts, it almost seems like it wants to split away from

the wall and convert its diet in a bent, Stephen King kind of way. Then I venture

around one more corner, discovering myself soundly returning to class and pondering

for a minute of all I observed in just the uncomplicated square of a structure and its

passages.