HE SITS AT THE FRONT DESK

D_____ sits at the front desk of my building. The desk sits in a small entrance panelled with dark wood. Across from the desk is a copy machine and a poinsetta in a small pot. D_____ has a kind face, round and shiny with skin that is black and smooth. Dressed in suit jacket, sweater vest and tie. Neat, polite, African. I walk past the desk and see that he has a copy of Foreign Affairs on his desk. It is open and he reads it quietly, marking the page with his finger.

"Foreign Affairs?" I say.
"Well, ____, you know I just like to read all different kinds of things. How are you?"
"Fine. Cold out, isn't it?" I say and smile. I like to read Foreign Affairs. I like the big type and the pale blue paper covers and the articles about politics and agriculture and wars.