Like a map with a faded legend.

Caught between the paleness of my skin and the woven fabric of my sweater is an Amazon-like atmosphere, a rain forest of exhausted emission, a weighted mist of sweat, anger, embarrassment with a weathered wind carrying a feeling I’ve never confined in a space of so many letters. There may also be strings and swirls of jealousy lying hidden between the stupid emotions, but I’ve never been that great at identifying with my feelings, especially at a time like this. After I was hired, there was this day we were supposed to be trained and all I remember now is the segment after lunch, a termination to my deepest desires of finding a friend, a spouse, a lover. Such intimacies weren’t allowed due to their troubling habits of producing the inability to perform at our peak, and, if found out, I risked death; only I didn’t know what was worse - being alone and vulnerable, or being dead, and, well…dead?

The two options consume my mind at the moment, clogging the filters and creating unnecessary disturbances to what was a smooth, glossy mindset this morning. I’ve been feeling my singleness for some time, but the beauty of the sunrise and the recollection of my dreams from the night before seem to amplify my desires, my need to bury myself further with the dust and ash of my burnéd fantasy.

For now, though, I wait, watching through the peephole of the front door; I think I see her cross the sidewalk and I wonder how it would feel to stand in the middle of the crosswalk and wait.