That easily explains why I am slightly shaking. I keep wrapping my mossy green scarf around my neck. I feel as if I am about to choke but I do not.
Cold. It’s cold.
Who knows how many, they whizz by not looking. Who am I to them? I am just a person like the others who are standing, sitting or doing something else which doesn’t concern them. I’m nothing. They do not know me, well, maybe one of them saw me in Starbucks yesterday or was the person on who I tripped trying to jump for that special, extraordinary book.
My height, I wish I was taller. But no, I am slightly above average. The slightly seems to be added, so that I won’t be depressed that much. Today it’s not about my height.
She’s not here.