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Dear morning table,
You have been an impeccable host for these past few years. It is 7:10 a.m. on the fifth day of senior year, and the commons bustle and even seem to shake a little; students head toward the school library down the twin halls while others turn toward one another. In laughter, in attempt to hear pat the aural chaos with varying success.
But I recall the first day of our freshman year: it seemed to spin at the speed of light, so quickly that time itself seemed to screech to a halt when we turned away from one another. If we friends were on the same conversational page, it only seemed to slow.
A few have left, some more have joined, but few other tables have housed so many friends so consistently.
Sincerely,
the local senior bard
So, at my school, there's this one table that my friends and I have sat at for basically all of high school. We started sitting there before school our freshman year, but now most of us (myself included) are seniors.

This was also for my Creative Writng class.
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September 2, 2011
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