It feels like a secret organization. Everyone has their seats. Four at the table. One on the floor or another table. And one at a desk. Day in and day out you see most of these six in the same space. Its unwritten. The rules are known to all. Snacks and stationary supplies are shared. Questions are asked. Reasoning is heard in hushed tones. There are other players in this scene too. One often wears a suit, or this certain sweater. He is not a part of the club, he is an outsider. And yet without his knowledge he is such a part of it. There are two others, with excessively floppy wristed waves, that are a small part of this organization.
You wouldnt know its a club. It appears to be mostly business and silence. And yet there is a bond. A communal yearning for knowledge, understanding and a feeling of confidence as pages are turned, notes are reread and rewritten and actions are thought over and over again.
Maybe one day you will find yourself on the fourth floor of the law library looking in on the club, wishing you were a part of it. Because as much as endless hours of studying is draining, it seems just the slightest bit more bearable when you are sitting near the executive table knowing that you are so far from being alone. Its okay to be a bit jealous of our club, and the fact we will all be there too early on a saturday tomorrow.
u forgot to mention that on good days the secret club can be seen in matchin navy blue shirts and black pants :-p
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