LUNCH

"This is the café. Pretty typical of any High I guess. You have your jocks and cheerleaders, your intellectuals, your skaters, your urban crowd, your Goths, and your preps.”

You look around the spacious room. Large windows spill sunrays onto the circular tables that seem to grow from the diner-style floor. “Where do you fit in?”

“Well . . .” Jeremy scratches his head. “I’m what you’d call a mixer. I kinda go wherever.” He stops and opens his arms like Moses parting the Red Sea. “You have three lines to choose from: a la carte, pizza and snack, and vegan. The choice is yours. I know I’m getting some pizza, for sure!”

You take a moment to just look around; the sights, sounds, and smells overburdening your senses. I guess lunch is better than chewing on pencils! You smile to yourself as you walk toward your desired line.