The random lady sits alone as she does everyday, pretending to be on her phone. Speaking so loud as to grab the attention of the room, almost as if she has to prove the point that she is not alone…
It’s quite sad really.
My nature calls for me to engage and speak to her, but I know that she will latch on to the attention on I will never be left in peace. I can’t subject myself to that again, despite how sorry i feel for her any and all attempts to make her feel better would be done out of pity, no one needs that.
I feel sorry for her, but there is nothing I can do. Her life in this world is short and she seems to have a small comfort in her routine, even if it’s all an act. At least it keep her happy, or so she would have you believe. I’m sure her story is just like every other, but it’s still hers and she can fill the final chapters how ever she likes.
Huh, it’s raining again. It always rains when I’m sad.