As I sit on a bench at the park, my wristband vibrates again. It is starting to annoy me. I know it’s another message, but I don’t want to see it. Whatever it is, I have ceased to care. There is no one here, not a single person, and I feel relieved: I enjoy being alone right now. Maybe I am not completely alone and I just am not aware of that, but even if that is the case, it appears as if  I’m alone, and that is quite enough for the moment.

Five minutes from now, my shift at work starts. There is no way I’d be there in time. I better stop thinking about it; it’s such an unnecessary thought. The sky is blue, it’s so blue. Most buildings near the park are all glass on the outside, for some reason: I don’t know what that is, since the people inside those buildings would hardly ever come across an actual window from which they could look outside. But whatever the reason, I am glad they are like that: they reflect the cloudless sky. I’d rather they didn’t exist, but since they do, I am glad they reflect the sky.

Jackie is walking on other side of the street, on one of the few pavements left. She holds her hand in the air, as if she is about to wave to me, but she doesn’t. Her shift starts half an hour later than mine, so she is still on time.

I don’t get Jackie: sometimes I feel like she’s this awesome person trapped inside herself; sometimes I feel like we’d be the best of friends if it were allowed. But other times… other times I feel like there might be all this hatred inside her that she just pretends doesn’t exist. That thought scares me a bit, I’m not sure way. I look away from her. There’s no point in prolonging the awkwardness.

There was not a lot of thought in what I am doing now, I realise. A dishevelled man walks past me, and I’m terribly afraid he might be an Inspector: I look the other way so that he won’t see my face, but he says, “hi, good afternoon” and walks by. I say it back to him and I smile a little, a tiny smile: it’s so hard to get these free and tiny acts of politeness. I’d say it’s kindness, even. Is he testing me? And if he is, what for? I’m getting paranoid. I should’ve gone to work. That’s the thought I hate, and the thought that accompanies me.

This fucking wristband vibrates again: I take it off and throw it in the bin, but first I step on it while sitting down. I don’t even care what that last message was. I don’t care. I just want to be left alone. Yes, maybe that’s the point of it all: I just want to be left alone. I know it’s wrong, I know: I am supposed to be at work and surrounded by thousands of people, or I should be at home, sick to my bones: those are the only two things I am supposed to be doing now.

To be alone: amongst the trees: watching the sky. Is it too much to ask? It is the first time I’ve done anything like this in 26 years. And it feels so good! It feels so good, until a black van parks a few metres away from me and I get paranoid again.



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