The Room


    Furniture made for gathering, yet the space assumes dueling identities.  The prominent table boasts the purpose of breaking bread, but there is no bread. Nothing to fill the belly, only an assortment of books strewn about the table, mingled with various utensils for writing.  A laptop seen resting in wait, ready to be employed by its next learner, adventurer, explorer. A family assuredly resides there - the proof evident in the substantial portrait of their likenesses. The furniture squeezed in tightly, yet still spilling into the adjoining space.

    Light gradually changes. The room is bright and uncomfortably warm in the evening sun. The scent of lead and paste fade as the aroma of coveted bread alights. Sustenance fills the table as the books and utensils are removed.  Eager bodies surround and settle. The table finally, proudly displays the prized bread. It isn’t forgotten. Bellies can be filled. A room once believed at war with itself, the purpose now revealed. Nourishment. For the minds, for the bodies.  For life.


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