I was alone.
Things had been tense at the house for a while… and so I was alone to avoid the “tense-ness”, so to speak. I was not alone because I wanted to be.
The rain was pouring down outdoors, making contact in comforting sounds to the exterior of the building.
I sat staring at my computer screen in hopes of something. I didn’t know what. Eventually, through a few aimless clicks, I landed up reading a very short story, about a man who fell in love with the idea of a stranger.
I remembered falling in love with the idea of a stranger once.
He used to come to the beach and write in his car every morning – just like me. One day he didn’t come to the beach… and I never saw him again.
I noticed some tears slide their way down my cheeks.
I could hear the loud invasive cacophony of the television set in the living-room where my partner watched other imaginary lives being lived.
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