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diary of the socially inept
"Oh, that's lovely."
I'm creeping down the darkened street, hoping not to be seen by the boy who glides through the air and lands abruptly.
Five feet away, I am stopped.
Five feet away, I tense.
Twisting, I find myself between my escape and my fear. Is it so hard to bring myself to speak? I do nothing but smile, sheepish, after Halloween meets that night, and you comment, but I already know this. You comment, but this talk is unfilled.
Nostalgia fills the air. Once absent breathing returns, and I let go, mirthful and confused faces shining down upon me. Familiarity in smiles and stances. And I realize I'm at peace.

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