It stands as a monument to a bygone era; clean, quiet, spacious. Mail cubbies adorn the wall with hundreds of names beneath each one - most with dust, but a few contain a few pieces of multi-colored papers within. A bulletin board sits on a wall with skewed notices of a car for sale, a house to rent, or an upcoming meeting - hoping, somehow, that someone will take notice. In the back, an oversized coffee pot sits with day-old coffee and a few styrofoam cups where once there was a fruit basket, granola bars, yogurt cups and collection of pastries. A few lockers have padlocks, but whether they are opened any longer is uncertain.
A desolate expanse. If a breeze blew, you could almost envision tumbleweed passing.
It's just not he same anymore in the hospital's Doctor Lounge.