Short Strings of Nothings

It’s that awkward moment of silence, that cliche. That waiting that waits in elevators while you afix and reafix that lid on top of your coffee cup and you realize, it’s still full to the brim. But you already knew that before you stepped in didn’t you? So you scratch your head because you’ve saved that spot for this occassion, and you lean on one leg while you rest your right arm as you wait for the ding, the open, and release.