Going back.

I am getting used to the days.  Walking the halls I feel like some sort of spectator, like I am there to collect information on what exactly it means.  I feel my difference. The students don't look at me, don't look up, but the professors nod their heads, make eye contact, say hello.

I am finding places to exist.  The end of the hall only computer science students go down, with its bench in front of the heater, the sunlight shining through the dirty window.  Yesterday I sat there and ate my lunch.  I could see out the window three cops trying to help a driver get his car out of an icy parking spot.  I watched them push the car, kick the snow and ice, try to ease it out of its spot. They took turns directing traffic around their double-parked cars, lights flashing.  I would have yelled my advice if the window opened.  I just watched.  After ten minutes one of the cops found a piece of cardboard and slipped it beneath the tire. The car lurched free, then one cop stopped traffic to let the driver out.  They stayed there for a couple minutes, arms crossed, kicking the icy spot.