Everything seems depressed today, scrunched down by the weight of the rain and the thick air. I am waiting for the bus. I am waiting for everything. My fists are tight but empty. I am afraid to stand still, and it paralyzes me. I can't see a straight way to walk, my eyes darting from side to side.
There is something on my back making shrill urgent noises and poking me in the same place on the nape of my neck over and over and over again. I am watching myself, there is no one behind me.
I have been here before. I never left.