Not the word but the space after. Not the weight but the lifting. This corridor has no clock, this waiting has no waiting in it, a fluorescent hum with a smell of, an antiseptic pause with a pause of breath. Match two doors, neither one. No. Only in buildings without windows, only in rooms with machines. I will not sit down again. I will not. Someone is speaking. She pressed her back against the vending machine and it shuddered, humming. Found, in the pocket of associatio