coffee break

     I was working this week’s semi-corporate editing gig in a suite sandwiched between miles of identical office cubes. When I took my break, staring at the coffee machine, trying to decide which flavor of coffee would make the job more palatable, I heard a gasp and an “oh!” from around the corner. A woman came into the pantry, saw me and said, “I thought that sign outside the door said ‘poetry’! But then when I looked closer, it only said ‘pantry.’ I was so disappointed.”
     I blinked at her, waking a bit from my fog. “I wish it said ‘poetry.’” I said. “We should replace it with an identical sign that says ‘poetry’ and see if anyone notices.”
     “That would be so great!” She walked over to the door sign and scraped at it with a fingernail. “Hmm, it’s not paper. Looks like they had it engraved into the plastic.”
     “Well,” I said. “We could get a piece of paper the same exact size and – “
     “OR we could get another piece of plastic and find a way to burn the words in,”
She paused for a second and I paused. We looked each other over with something that could only really be described as- recognition.

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