In the end, all i have is paper.
I watch as pieces of it come down from a big black machine, with a glowing green monitor and buttons.
The dull mechanical wirr and the prompt clicks as it opens a small trap door. I wonder if I stuck my hand in a little bit longer, would the machine panic? would it be amused and wait patiently, or would it be irritated and snap my hand off.
The door waited.. but it was impatient because it was beeping.
I got the bills that I needed and the door shut quickly. I had violated it. An act of defiance. I smiled to myself.
Crisp. I can feel it. This. Tangible. I never had a lot of this, I should be happy, right? I worked for this. I worked really hard for this. And in a little while, all of this will be out of my hands and won't be mine anymore.
Pieces of paper in exchange for company I lost, the moments i can never have again. All for this.
In the end all i have are pieces of paper, and none to share them with.
What for?
