A single florescent yellow light
randomly hummed a static frenzy
over a black and white tiled floor.
The air was stagnant as if drugged.
Brown paneled walls, stained and
cracked, closed in with coffin anxiety.
Music from the apartment above attempted
an escape through the ceiling above
our heads. A lazy dust coated fan oscillated
without results. The front door was solid,
no window, no trim or markings. When
someone did enter the store, it was always
a surprise that someone found the place.
Roger Singer 