Rebellion

biker by the dead lake alone

I look up in my wandering and see a man on his bike.

He notices me and emits  a cheerful “Good Morning”. I say the same back and feel a social unspoken rule has been broken. Nobody ever speaks to another in the desert. We are all protected by a sense of personal space.

bikers and dead lake desert black and white

All it takes is somebody who doesn’t conform and we are all in danger.

I wonder if I could become a non-conformist?

Rare

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Detachment Diary

Reading diary outside

Not one of the people has looked at me this entire trip

I’ve done my share of staring at each of them, struggling to understand that behind that face, that skin, there is a human mind, a presence that is the center of its own universe.

Daily Prompt:
Struggle