Friendless and hungry, once again. I stroll through the sullen, lonesome streets of suburbia and consider the faded footsteps beneath my own. I remember the early days, when food was plentiful. When the threat of death brought the world to life. Last songs filled the air, sparking thrilling sensations in lost wanderers. Like me. The world moved too fast, and we slowed it down. Now it doesn’t move at all. My friends blame it on the hunger. I blame it on the heat, which I search for still. The burning warmth of life. Just to grasp for a moment. Before the starvation takes over and the cold comes back in.
So, I stagger along, dragging the unfortunate mask of death with me. The prospect of food is long gone. Along with my friends and their empty company. The leaves dance in the wind, though I can’t see them in the dark. Their music makes me sad and lonely, until there is a light. Shining through a far off window. It guides me forward as the world becomes a blur. It is the heat. It is hope. And I can feel the warmth already. It takes hold of me and for a moment, I can feel life again. I can almost taste it.