The creative writing major left only with her thoughts, a pencil, and paper. A lead halo is all that tells of her existence. I add my own marks. Ringlets of water from my bottle and drops from the spout. We all have left bits of ourselves out in the open for someone to see. It is shadowed by an emerald umbrella. Although it used to be white, the elements have turned it brown-gray. Evidence that college students sat at the table graffiti it. An artist made a few sketches. A math student scribbled the quadratic formula. Over and over. He must memorize it by Tuesday.