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As I sit here on a subdued Tuesday morning, I am reminded of an old people’s home I once visited to play the flute to a geriatric audience.
I got the same kind of response back then when I played as to when I walked in to the cafeteria today.
People looked up to see who we were, out of boredom more so than interest, then dropped their heads as it was easier than keeping them up.
As I wonder what to write, I notice that a small collection of noises mount up to make a rather large one.
The low buzzing of males voices, the high pitched squeaks of the female ones.
The walls are a colour of those never ending hospital corridors, and the chairs are those that are found in neglected waiting rooms and which are never used.
Despite these unappealing features, there seems to be a certain element to it that draws a fair amount of people in.
Yet for the life of me, I cannot think what it is.
I realise that the people surrounding me are doing various things in an attempt to pass the time, presumably ‘til their next lecture.
There are a solemn looking group playing cards, somewhat reluctantly.
Behind me, there are a group of males loudly declaring how badly each of have gotten ‘banged up’ (it’s times like these when you resent the British culture).
There are two males and a female playing against each other on their Nintendo DS’s on a game of Super Mario Bros, I think the girl is winning.
Two other males are chatting animatedly about what they got up to at the weekend, almost as if they’re contending with each other as to who did the most ridiculous thing while innhebriated (oh yet another lovely part of our culture).

The atmosphere is anything but intense, there is a kind of solemn element in the air, or maybe it’s just the time of day when people aren’t awake yet and are getting their caffeine on.
I look outside to see a windswept couple kissing intently, and then I...