literature

internal void

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Literature Text

He looked at his watch, it was midnight…
He didn’t feel like going home…
He didn’t feel like being alone…
He didn’t feel like sleeping with the shadows of loneliness…
He didn’t feel like standing alone behind the furnace to cook dinner…
He didn’t feel like having dinner for one in the first place…
He didn’t feel anything…
But loneliness…
Nothing in this world was to make him go home…
Not tonight…
He’d rather drive all night…
He’d rather meet all the strangers in the city…
Look at them…
Exchange glances with them…
He’d rather do nothing but move from one restaurant to another…
Sit, alone, on a table…
Open his laptop and write anything…
Anything…
Just so he won’t go back to his lonely flat…
To his lonely prison…
To his lonely cell…
To himself…
All the meals of the restaurants weren’t able to fill the gap he felt inside…
All the noises of the crowds weren’t able to soil the silence that surrounded him…
All the strangers in the city weren’t able to replace…
Her…
another part of the he she novel...
© 2008 - 2024 fletchergull
Comments10
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WithoutWax's avatar
I love loneliness...