Time spent walking the streets at night, looking in windows. Hoping for those in the light to see me. To look my way and wonder at my life. To lift a hand and invite me in. To lift the corner of their mouth in welcome acknowledgment.
Standing in the dark I know they can’t see me. Even if they knew I was there they would wave only at themselves reflected in their warm cocoon. The others at their table looking at the window and smiling at their mirrored mirth.
Those that sit in the dark corners in their filth and stench watch me as I pass. Their orange cherries glint off teeth as they try a smile. They nod. They wonder what important place I have come from and what important place I am going. I ignore them. The corner of my eye turned just enough in wariness of sudden movement.
At home I sit alone on my couch, eyes half open, looking out at the dark. The stream of cars and trucks the sound of a river. Each vehicle closed off to the world, hands gripping wheels and eyes straight ahead. Most alone. Wanting to be home. Some look at me as they pass, hoping that I care.