I stepped out of the suburban onto the cracked, fading black pavement. Careful not to trip over the tree roots that have uplifted the cement path, I made my way to the large, square brick building that had the slight resemblance of a prison. The fake plant that serenaded the meager company that walked in 'when their schedules would allow them to' was almost too much. The first thing I saw as I walked through the squeaking glass automatic doors was a towering, faded picture of Mary. It clashed horribly with the cheap, white painted walls. I turned left down the familiar hallway that was too bright, the light reflecting off the cold floors. I found myself in a lobby that was far less comforting than it should be. The cream, pleather couches framed a small glass table with yet another fake plant on it. I suppose these people were too busy to water real plants. "Can I help you." A woman behind the desk in a white nurse's uniform asked monotonously as she stared at her...
I like geography best because mountains & rivers know the secret: Pay no attention to boundaries.