A Crowded Room Thats Empty

A dentist room with 30 people. 40 colorful plastic chairs laid out across the reception room like the walls on a Pac-Man maze. Where the ghosts were normally jailed was a stubborn, elderly woman who was just receiving a new customer.

“Kennifer Wissaedeon.” “Spell it,” the annoyed receptionist replied. “W-I-S-S” “Spell the whole thing miss.” “K-E-N-N-I...”

Kevin was number 927. He had forgotten what was the last number called. They had passed into 900, he remembered. How far along it got, he couldn’t tell you. He himself was on his phone, haphazardly planning a friend’s birthday party, also checking his email, his calendar, his Instagram account, and his work chat. He had tried to use the sole power outlet nearby, but his unfriendly neighbor to the left had stolen it for his laptop. His neighbor to his right was snoring loudly.