I stood at the bulletin board until the doors closed.

My hands stayed steady until I got to the third floor, and then they didn’t.

At noon Charles Wilson was already sitting at the window table, his black notebook lined up in front of him.

The rubber band lay next to it like a little black snake.

I put my lunch bag down and pulled out the chair.

“Derek says the posting is a mistake.”

Charles looked out at the maple tree.