Sunday, December 28, 2014

I Am Known

My reflection shudders and jumps in the windows of the passing bus, and I watch impassively as I move without moving. I am standing on the corner, the library behind me, waiting to cross the street.

This is how I look to other people, I think, like a series of distorted images, different things emphasized, bigger or smaller, or not depending on where they choose to focus, none of them really me, nobody seeing "me."

A text comes in, "Do you need eggs for your cookies?"

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