Crowded by SolitudeI move through the city every single day,
and people press into me in the crowds from all sides.
They surround me like water to a bay.
Wrapping me in interaction like a man drowning at sea,
and yet, despite all these people, I really must say,
that the solitude presses against me, despite them, like a far harsher tide.
All of the crowding people, as they surround me,
and the less than handful of people who pass for friends, aside,
I could say that the solitude doesn’t get to me,
but all that would yield would be that in the future I would look back and say that I lied.
By: Eric Thomas
I stepped through the aisles, the library’s air seeming strangely heavy around me.
The smell of the old paper was strangely comforting, offsetting the atmosphere well.
My fingers tapped at my side as I walked, dancing to a tune only I could hear.
The party the previous night had been hands-down the most fun since we’d gotten to the island.
One of the folk songs, in particular, had apparently stuck with me, given the way I was humming along to the words repeating in my head.
“Can I help you wit’ sometin’?”
I jumped from the appearance of the sudden voice, my eyes leaping from the book I’d been staring at.
I turned towards the newcomer to find a slightly older woman leaning against the opposite side of the aisle.
She seemed only a few years older than myself, with hints of grey beginning to show throughout her small curtain of reddish-brown h