odd ends

These days I've been coming to the ends of things. My shampoo won't last another week, nor will my mouthwash or laundry detergent. I've almost run out of loose leaf paper, and I only have a few coffee filters left. It would be a shame to buy all these for one week's supply.


This afternoon I attended the last class period of my education. My professor brought flowers to the graduating seniors: for each, 2 tulips and forget-me-nots. She handed out our class evaluations and left the room, and like usual, I was the last person to finish. In the empty room with a cool breeze coming through, I sat there for a minute extra. It felt right to be there alone, to have a moment with myself in that place. This is it, I thought, here I am. I tried to have big thoughts of this symbolic end of the line, but it was simpler than I had imagined. I dropped off my evaluation in the folder, turned off the lights, and looked into the empty classroom once more as I left.