Spacing out in the fortress of solitude,
She stares blankly at her screen.
Thoughts of deco and mod flicker, but don't connect.
The digital chaperone on the phone that doesn't ring says,
"Blink. Blink. Blink. 2:42."
The weekend aroma piques her interest
And she sits up straight in her chair.
A healthy glow spites the 3 o'clock slump,
Suddenly she's two hours from life.
It's a good thing she's all alone
Spacing out in the fortress of solitude.
No one can hear she's elated to leave.