Observations from a table at the Lookout Shelter Lounge
The lounge, almost deserted after the lunch service: a large screen television blaring out a rerun of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I’m sitting at a table hunched over a piece of paper, pencil in my hand, forehead scrunched with concentration as I’m trying to record my observations. It’s otherwise quiet and I like it.
The kitchen window is closed. The lights are out casting the lounge into shadows.
The kitchen door opens. A young man in a chef’s jacket and checked pants steps in the lounge with a large bag of bread in his hand, followed by a woman similarly attired holding several loaves of bread in her hands. They cross the lounge towards the front desk. The TV blares, “Do I look like a moron?”
Scotty, one of the other residents, enters the lounge from the courtyard pushing an old bicycle, heading outside.
Steve participates in Megaphone's creative writing workshop at the Lookout Shelter in North Vancouver. This is the first piece of writing published from that workshop so far, and we're looking forward to sharing a lot more.
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