The stainless steel dispenser sits near the corner, its corner slightly bent from impact. It is a utilitarian object, designed for bulk dispensing, and currently, it is ajar. A small, uneven pile of yellowed powder has settled inside, catching the mid-morning dust motes drifting from the overhead lights. The label affixed to the front reads 'Nutri-Mix: For Canine Use Only.' The powder itself is an unfamiliar, fine particulate, and a faint, sweet, dusty smell rises from the gap. On the scuffed linoleum floor, the dispenser rests next to a stack of folded magazines, untouched. The powder has settled slowly, a minute accumulation that defies the sterile order of the waiting room.
static · uneasy