The hard smooth plastic like bench beneath me made my muscles ache as the blades of grass before me that was still yet untamed by the trolling lawn mowers fell slumped over the many shoes that had trod upon them. A day described by a passerby as “warm and pleasant” was more of a day of stark contrasts.
The waxy petals of a broken flower cooled my fingertips with the morning dew that clung upon them while my ears cringed because of the clanging echo of mechanized movement flowing from over the fence punched with holes. My nose tingled with the aroma of freshly cut crass and my nostrils became frightened by the pollen drifting upward in a breeze of warm spring air.
As the tiny ants danced along their way the smooth sounds of shuffling student’s feet eased my ears as the pounding of metal machines carried on. Leaving the bench and back into the cool of the library's shadow I paced along the spiritless pavement back to class and was comforted by the sight of a lone scrawny twig braving the plains of the concrete desert.
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