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I am a non-profit organization.
Whoosh. Swoosh. The wind pulls my scarlet umbrella. Spring rain trickles down the metal tips like fresh condensation. Preservure! I continue as it isn’t by force that I work here.
I step through the automatic glass doors, edged in black, and a rush of warm air hits the chill of my cheeks. An orange and blue mask greets me. I pinch the top with my fingertips to seal it at my nose. No complication will stop me. I continue like a member of the cellos...that kept playing on the Titanic.
Today, the ear-to-ear grin on patients brightens up my eyes. It is for them, the public, that I work for. No doubt soon, one will lash back from time ticking by. But, there's a deeper meaning to their frustration. My co-workers and I let the wrath roll off our shoulders with no apparent effect. Next, it’s time to encourage the impatient ones to stay.
The automatic wood doors to my left open up. A man wobbles step by step to exit. The breathless one. One who walked out that day with a chest filled with air. A matter of hours, minutes, and seconds that saved his life.
It’s now 18:00. Time to go. My smile turns around as learning opportunities for that day slip through the cracks in my dry palms. I walk in the tiled illuminated hallway the sees no end. As I step back out the doors, I stand looking back for a brief moment.
This building is…a giving place. A non-profit place. A caring place. Its minutes spent serving in the best interest of the community. Its hours for the endless sacrifices and learning opportunities. Its days filled with experiences that personally I will never forget.
The dew left on my umbrella shakes off as it opens once again. The glossy black pavement shines with each glare. I cross bright green grass to reach my vehicle. Once again, I sit. Looking back. Waiting for another day. A black and white picture of the girl with the scarlet umbrella stills in my mind.
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