Sitting alone with my back against the wall I watch people walk in and out of the little store, periodically checking my phone to see if it’s charged enough yet. I am quick to become envious of where they are going. The little store sold soaps and had a wall outlet right by the door, as if they knew I’d want to use it one day.
I am far from home, if I have one at all. Maybe I don’t. I’m not sure who I should call when my phone has enough battery. I’m afraid of what is going to happen. Coming here was a response to how I don’t want to be anywhere familiar right now. I’d rather feel like I’m in some sort of limbo, as if there’s a way to manipulate the universe and let it know I want to have a better place to go on occasion. Maybe it would be alright if I stayed here for a while, watching other people I will never know enter and exit this little store, as I would always have the pleasure of desiring to be them when they leave, desiring to be someone, somewhere else.