Too early. I shall wait.
I waited but nothing came, so I left. Took the escalator down, down. I left the building and crossed the road. Still early, but I enter anyway, I have naught else to do besides.
Looking at covers familiar from yesterday, I try to feign interest but fail. Even I can feel how vacant my eyes must look.
I lied. About nothing coming. I was invisible, that was all. A condition I have become wonted to, though not by choice. Very little I do these days is by choice.
I go back to the first building. I ask the staff for something. Cold comfort it is, but all the same momentarily I exist. I made a request. I savor the moment in sack cloth and ashes. Cold, comfort, indeed.
I stopped waiting after an hour. I held my breath. Those who are not alive have no need for passages of air to course through their finished lungs, fueling hearts that have no need to beat.
Of course it only made things worse. Quite against my will, my heart beat still faster, demanding to be fed. So eat, you fucker. I retch but nothing is regurgitated.
I leave as hideous as I arrived. Only not enough so I can surrender all hope of love.
The beautiful have troubles we can only dream to have.
