Venti pumpkin spice latte, extra shot, skim milk

Feet clad in GEDs, college degrees, and dress socks pound over the same paths somewhere in between the rows of buildings of suits of busy. This, is where they live. The branded, scheduled, caffeinated and shells of children. Plugged into Blackberries and laptop lifelines. Where at night the dreamers take off ties and wear the lights and spilled contents of glasses. Children dance in the absence of the life they actually lead. And on the floor and at the bar stand astronauts, ballerinas, actors, presidents. But then the moon skulks away and the cubicle creatures order one more cardboard cup of getting by.