Of driving down an unknown street made dark by the towering trees on both sides, Bowie’s The Bewlay Brothers on the stereo; near tears, but ecstatic. Remembering people that have forgotten me, I’m sure, and reveling in the way their memory impacts my emotions.
Completely alone and mired in this contrary need for someone (anyone) and the relief of nobody.
Made uncomfortable by a grocery store customer who seemed to have a seriously unhealthy attraction to the bag boy; deviant about to turn dangerous.
Up ahead there’s a storm about to break over the trees, somewhere over the water, and I can feel that sick smile spread that is bound to disturb anyone who sees it.
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