Humans and their condition

There is lonely and there is alone; one’s a choice, the other a condition.
She flows through life like a seasonal stream. She hides behind voluminous, neutral-colored clothing and mousy hair that hangs like drapes.
She speaks when spoken to; eats in corners from brown bags, reads dog-eared paperbacks.
The note he drops scares her immensely.


Anonymous said...

This was great. It hit a little too close to home in a way. You sure it's fiction?

I had a corner once. I had forgotten about it, as we are want to do when trying to forget a bad memory. But that kind of memory never really dies. It lingers and hovers in the dark, waiting for that moment when it is allowed to step into the light once again.

There are still parts of me in that corner; weaknesses I am loathe to admit, fears I have yet to face.

This is nice Thom. Fiction that makes me think, feel, and remember. I like that. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

This one's a thinker.

Amrita said...

where's this going?