by Jen Burke
Baltimore: where the liquid movement of caffeinated roads convert me from office worker to day tripper
For the rest of the afternoon, I should be seated in a windowless office in Philadelphia with nauseating fluorescent lights that buzz louder than maggot-infested roadkill.
This place makes me appreciate windows, enough so that I take breaks, wander to the bleak stairwell, and look through the one window there that can never be opened.
My office mate, J., should also be seated in this office all afternoon, where our predecessors sketched on the wall above our desks a ballpoint window with a shaky, though accurate, view of the city skyline, complete with a filthy pigeon that never flutters, eats, or shits. There’s an upside to everything if you want it badly enough.