blueberries, cranberries, mulberries, fuckberries, i mumble to myself as i shuffle though the pages. the light from the lamp shining a little too brightly. i rub my aching temples, and shift uncomfortably in the plastic chair. someone coughs behind me. feigning disgust i continue my work, aware of the eyes watching me from the far aisle. those eyes, that gaze, inoculating but expressionless; i know too well what they are. choosing ignorance i pack up my things, and make my way out of the building, my quickened breath echoing the man’s desire.