It seemed so small, hardly worth mentioning, really. A tiny bump.
You feel it with your fingers, run your thumb upon it, strange.
And now you sit. Colorful wall paper. Certificate from a school, not on-line thank goodness.
You shift in your chair. Contemplate a magazine. See the pretty girl smiling.
Why is it that these rooms are always so cold?
You cross your legs, then uncross them. The door opens.
You sit forward, staring as he walks into the room, manila file folder clutched in his hand.
You are desperate to see, as he turns slowly toward you, the look in his eye