She got me the moment I walked in the door.
I hung my head down as I replied,
“It’s not done.”
Hint of shame in my voice,
an awkwardness to my withdrawn stance,
knowing I have done wrong.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat
as she said,
“That explains it.”
Although her voice lacked judgment,
I knew I had done wrong,
and that was enough.
Too bad it won’t stop me from procrastinating tonight.