It is evening.
And I am lonely.
The lights are on in the city outside my window, twinkling like earthbound stars, and above them hangs the thumbnail moon, a strange celestial carrot on a string, thin and white and forever out of reach.
Is everyone this lonely, come evening time? Come night?
I do not know. I want to both cry and scream, at the same time; instead, I remain silent.
And later, I will sleep.