[Title bleeding to death]  

                by Yimeng Wang


                                                            

Sitting at the desk, he can still smell the odor left from the fast food wrapping in the trash can. Hunger Pause… Considering, he knows he shouldn’t eat. His jeans have been unbuttoned and the fat is perpetuating. He did not really mind that lump knowing that it will snap back tomorrow when he wakes up.
Under that swinging lantern,
Which has enough
Light to direct moths,
He played his calculator
              Beautifully.
He soloed madly and the cricks will always give him a standing ovation.

    He considered this place

                    Comforting
Because he is important here.