Meetings

I’m running through the double doors at work, looking at my watch, thinking to myself as I sprit through the hallways “Not again, not this time” as I reach my destination, room 104. I stop, get my breath then swallow, the build-up of salver in my mouth, I reach for the cold silver door handle, turn it an step through. My stomach drops everyone is already there, waiting around a table. One disapproving face looking at me. I’m late for another meeting.