Yo no soy yo.

"It was his choice to become a dog." He said.

"But why is that a bad thing? He couldn't find work doing anything other than being a dog. He had to feed his family. I don't think he's necessarily unhappy. He said walking on four legs is no different than walking on two."

"Right, but he didn't have a relationship with his family. He only saw his wife in passing. He lived with the dogs, and she with the people. I would argue that you need to sustain those healthy relationships to be happy."

Cora jumped in the conversation. "I think what's important is that he is aware he is making the choice to become a dog--it needs to be a conscious choice."


He thought about the play they had read in his spanish literary course. The discussion replayed in his mind. His neck ached and his eyelids were heavy. He was tired.

The lunch lady looked up. "We have one hot plate left. Turkey, mash-potatoes, green beans and gravy. It's right there."

"Hmm.. what else do you have." He looked at the white dry erase board with the short list of the days meals.

Soups: Chili and Chicken Tortilla

"We got some chili left I think... Yeah we got some chili and a bread bowl if you want that."

"Yeah, I'll have a bread bowl."

Before he could tell her what kind, she grabbed the ladle and poured the chili into a bread bowl. He thanked her. She was on the phone and he waited to pay for the chili. There was a light rain that tapped on the windows. The sky was gray and the trees scarce of the larger portion of their leaves. The bread bowl grew soggier every minute and he continued eating. He had nothing to drink.

He let the rain hit his glasses and walked as though it were not raining at all. He entered the library and was heading to his spot, but slowed as the titles of books caught his eyes. He stopped. Advanced Mass Spectrometry. He thought about a story he had read about a useless museum. It was a thin hard cover book with a brown front and a white back. The title was white and bold, surrounded by a red box. He had planned on reading a page or two. A stamp appeared on the inside cover indicating it had not been checked out for eleven years. No surprise there. He thought.

He read the first couple lines, than put the book down. He sat in the corner of the library on the top floor with his feet up on a chair across from him. The radiator ticked and he stared out the window at the rain.