A crowded art room stands before you as you look from your book. Everyone is too, reading a story. Their eyes glaring at each page as if wanting it to speak its wisdom that is found printed against it. Few of these people, whispering to each other from their seating, heads peeked from the hiding place behind the fiction of their stories, notice that you’re looking at the clock. Your eyes count the seconds that pass before wandering from person to person, table to table. Your eyes tend to explore the room when they tire the same position of being stuck to an inked page. You place your book on the table, page side up, before stretchi