Story from 131019

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 131019 00:00

I'd had enough to do with people that day, and was far happier than I should've been to see only three people in a dump like this. Normally it's swarming with junkies of some sort. Today it seemed more mellow, if only mildly so. Of course there was still an alcoholic trying to outrun his inevitable hangover, whenever it would arrive. I couldn't be sure if it were to crash tomorrow for one only need drink more of the substance to abstain from it's faults. What a strange notion. I pulled out my phone in act of deciet, and idly watched the static red dots. I'd mimick the motion of movement and feigned interest if only to gauge their reactions. Both of them scorned me, just as I expected. You whip out a phone and all of a sudden you're trying too hard, or want to remain forever connected as if afraid of your own thoughts. The truth though, is that there are people like that but to call it sad is a bit of a strech. There are people of all sorts. People whose depths of emotion can be quantified merely be an "I'm sad." or "This is exciting." and others still who feel nothing at all. The world is a strange place, but it is neither dead nor cold. It is filled with entities of every form, shape and size, if only you're willing to look, you will see what you wish to find. No matter where I looked, I saw only my luminous blue screen glaring into me.