It's the glass ceiling. She pounds on it furiously. They won't let her in. But she has the pass!

Look, look! she wants to show them, but that isn't the way. She's letting the pass dangle casually from her hands, waiting for someone to notice her instead. Look at her and know she's the type of person that belonged in the establishment, on the other side of the glass ceiling. She can wait.. she will wait.. and then she sees the other people. The other people that are pulled through. Taking her spot. Taking all the parts she wanted. All the parts she dreamed for. And they didn't even fight for the pass. Or want it. They were just taking a stroll past and saw the ceiling, then asked for a pass. And they gave it to them, and they were through.


She doesn't know what to do. The pass dangles casually from her fingers. Her fingers tighten. She wants to call out. But she shouldn't. She couldn't. She is much more. Is she? Or is she really like the rest around her? Do they all have passes too, and are unwilling to call out? Are the ones that are getting through the ones who ask for it? Is she on the wrong side?