Solitude Is a Human Presumption
Why can’t we imagine, just for the sake of argument, that a joyful spirit leaves some of themselves behind—an echo of joy in a place they once loved?
Why Chicago
It was the wrong type of quietthis isn’t what I bargained for at all
What do I say?
Why would there have been anything written in my closet?
Maybe this was the pareidolia of someone who avoids human interactioninstead of seeing faces in toast, you see words on a wall
I really need to clean . . .
What do I say?
It was the wrong type of quietthis isn’t what I bargained for at all.
The woman must have made a mistake,
Something needed to give
my
Maybe I am not seeing things after all
—
Oh no, oh no.
I hope I can talk to her more.
Gratitude.
Julia Shiota tries to make sense of the world through culture and literature. Find her on Twitter at @julia_megumi or at juliashiota.com.
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