I stood beside the tray of food (under the shadow of the liveboard),
self consciously sticking raw vegetables
into the off white dip.
I had put on my black jacket,
and a colorful shirt and scarf.
(In the art world a uniform.
Here, a sort of armor)
Tried to think of things to say. I desperately wanted to communicate.
Stuck carrots and mushrooms into my mouth.
Fourth tea I had been to, and it was only getting worse.
I ate a fudge brownie. "Where does the food come from?" I asked.
"Elves", someone said.
forward anywhere lines