The queue

We all patiently queue; I’m third in a line of about eight students. We’re all here for the same reason – we’re about to submit our thesis.

I look in my file and check for about the hundredth if everything’s in there. Three forms, four copies of my thesis and one CD. I gaze at the latter, wondering when was the last time I used it; I honestly can’t remember, I guess it’s truly out of date.

A girl walks out of the office, smiling and another one nervously steps inside. The line moves forward one short step.

I look into the office where eight student counsellors work. Obviously three of them are not working today. I turn around and notice that two more students lined up behind me.

A tall boy leaves the office and the girl in front of me walks in. I move one step closer to the door; I don’t really see the point of making that small step but I feel socially obligated to do it. That’s how we queue, the line must move forward.