Coffee Talk, Part 1
The second-floor corridor had never looked more peculiar to me.
Something so strangely, vaguely unfamiliar about all the familiarity that surrounded me. The faint blemishes in the floorboards, white walls that hung a dozen canvases of shamelessly pretentious paintings, even the long-ass carpet I keep crumpling up whenever I drag my feet on it… walking through it felt like a whole new experience.
Couldn't really put a finger on why I felt the way that I did, that was until I took a second glance through the stairway window. Sure, I may have walked these halls many more times than I have relationships… but I don't think I've ever seen them painted in a more vivid, clearer, sunnier light.