Big business meeting, more people than chairs.
I chose happily to sit on the floor. I can move more freely when need to change position. My legs, hip and back thank me for that.
Back from lunch, people insist on getting me a chair.
They don’t get it.
This post was written in response to the Miniature Writing Challenge, hosted by Art and Life.
I’m a foreigner myself, born and raised in Brazil, but leaving on the US for more than a third of my life now. So I’d have several stories to tell about being on a different cultural environment.
Today, when I saw the prompt, I was on a room full of people, and I believe only one or 2 were US born, meaning it was a room full of foreigners trying to make sense of each other.
But what struck me as something worth writing about had nothing to do with place of birth, but that still made me feel out of place in that group, like a foreigner.