• He lived in the city among millions of strangers as his neighbours and walked among millions of faces he did not recognise.

    “Who are you?” Thomas Dalton would ask himself every morning as he looked into the mirror above the basin in his bathroom.
    And each morning his reflection stared back at him in silence.
    Thomas put a hand up to his face caressing his own cheek, he blinked his pale grey eyes at himself as his hand crept up to touch his short, pale blonde hair.
    “Who are you?” Thomas Dalton repeated as he turned away from the mirror.

    The street was always busy; cars and buses screeching up and down the tarred rivers that wound through the high-rises and faded and dilapidated brick apartments, sirens wailing in the distance and footsteps marching together on the pavement.
    “Morning, Mr Dalton.” The door man murmured as Thomas stepped out of his building on to the street.
    “Morning.” Thomas muttered; just to be polite. Internally Thomas was deep in thought. Do I know him? His face seems familiar but I can’t place it.
    A woman walked out of the same building as Thomas; blonde hair blowing in the wind.
    “Good morning Thomas.” She called as she breezed past.
    Who is she? Thomas thought as he turned and started walking up the street. Do I know her?

    These are the thoughts Thomas held on to as he walked his way through the crowd. The thoughts he held onto as children cried and phones trilled. Who is she? Who is he? Do I know her? Do I know him?

    Sitting at his desk, Thomas tapped a pen against his chin; lost deep in thought. He assumed he had worked here for years but couldn’t place a single face. They all blended together, they all looked unfamiliar and Thomas found himself asking the same questions over and over.
    Do I know him? Who is he? Do I know her? Who is she?
    “It’s enough to drive anyone crazy.” Thomas said aloud.
    “What is it, Mr Dalton?” a woman stood in the doorway, her reddish hair pulled into a bun and her face unrecognisable to Thomas.
    “Nothing.” Thomas muttered and turned away.

    Thomas walked home slowly; his briefcase dragging on the ground as he held it loosely in his hand. Lifting it slightly he paused and looked around. More people as usual; their faces blurred and unrecognisable as per usual.
    Thomas wanted to grab hold of them all and shout “Do I know you?” but he didn’t; he never did. He always resisted the urge, no matter how he much he longed to.

    It was the weekend; or at least Thomas thought it was. He sat on the bench by the pond, watching the unfamiliar faces flash by. In his mind Thomas asked the same questions over and over. Do I know him? Who is she? Do I know her? Who is he?
    Thomas didn’t understand why their faces were always indistinguishable. Why he could never make out the faces.
    Raising his head slightly, Thomas recognised a face.
    She was standing on the bridge. Her wavy brown hair pulled back in a pony tail, her blue eyes watching him intently. Slowly Thomas got to his feet and made his way over to her.
    “Hello Carly.” He murmured. Carly smiled at him with her delicate pink lips. Her dark lashes fluttered as Thomas placed a hand on her cheek.
    “Thomas.” Carly whispered.

    In a rush the faces all around came into view, while Thomas still couldn’t recognise them and he still didn’t know who they were; the most important one was standing in front of him.
    “You’re the only one I recognised in a sea of people.” Thomas murmured.
    “That’s because I am, who I am. I don’t pretend.” Carly muttered.
    Thomas smiled and took Carly’s hand and together they walked away from the bridge.

    “Who are you?” Carly asked softly.
    “I’m Thomas Dalton.” And he smiled.