i sit and watch the feet pass by with such flurry that they can hardly keep up with their own business, let alone the business of others that they so love to medle in. They are so aware of the hussle and bustle of the chaotic world around them, that they cannot even take one moment to rest themselves and gather what is left of their occupied little minds. I sip my juice. Their clammer on the plastic tiles ring off each wall sending vibrations of negative energy to everyone around them, like munching electric monsters feeding on the vitality of others, slowly draining their momentum. The pen I am holding is purple with a slight whisk of blue, giving the impression of a bird in flight. a free bird, with a long wing span, that could easily be carried away into the elements without hassle or mind. I noticed one pair of shoes that sort of jumped out of the crowd. they were red, slipper like, with a plastic sole. i could hear them clip against the floor, but they drew my attention so because of their step. they practically floated. They were so carefree, so light, unweighted by love or dislike and they were happy feet.