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Sep 2013
The creaks and shifts of a house that is far too old still stand
and the soft hum of midnight traffic are the only sounds in the night.
The glow of a computer is the only light, and the familiarity sets in.
This is every night.
Every night.
Longing for human interaction.
Just a glimpse into the consciousness we all share.
The phone vibrates against the wooden table.
It is not you.
Elijah Kadafi
Written by
Elijah Kadafi  Mars.
(Mars.)   
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