A sixty year old lady, with a conventional name. Walks with a cane and has a memory that can barely recall the previous day.
A young adult, not much different than me. Desperate to live life. But stays surviving in front of a computer screen, minimum wage.
A doorman, receives one thank you for every twenty people that walk through his door.
A baby, in a carriage. Hysterically crying from a bottle dropped on the floor.
To be jealous of a timeless friendship with a neighbor, a new companionship with a coworker, a few words and smiles exchanged while walking, and just a simple gesture exchanged with someone who has already forgotten it, seems crazy. But it is not crazy if you realize the one thing they all have experienced that I have not.
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