My Spot

 There's a little courtyard just outside the building I work in,  it's small and surrounded  on all four sides by buildings.   There are all kinds of trees grown up in here somehow.   It's open to the air so I can see the sky.  There's an old picnic table,  with peeling green paint,  that I sit on  to think.  Nights like tonight are the best, 60°  and clear skies.   Now what's unique about my little spot here is that with the way it's enclosed there's not a drop of light in here so I'm actually able to see more stars than usual.  I rarely see anyone else out here,  it's my place of solitude in this place of noise and machines.  I often wonder what their intentions were for this space,  or how it came to be,  but I'll never know.   There's nobody left that's been here long enough to know.   My back is aching and  makes me crabby,  especially when nothing I do relieves the pressure.  I had a dream about vicodin the other night and I'm positive the two are related, but the dream came due to the pain not the other way around.   I'm kind of careless in the things I do even though my back hurts so I suppose it's partially my fault,  but at the same time it's work and I have to do what I have to do.   I've been here for 12 hours with 4 more to go and it drags on.  Now this screen is polluting my night sky and I don't want to taint the atmosphere  with my electronic devices.

 It's August 4th already,  people.