Phone's draft

It shouldn’t be a sunny afternoon. You shouldn’t be indoor at work on a sunny afternoon when it’s time to realize that you’ve become a loner.

I gaze outside at the tower beside the building of my work. Aimlessly. It’s a sunny afternoon, but the afternoon that comes on an odd Tuesday. Now, how empty does that feel? No birds around to chirp as it must be too hot outside around 2 PM. I scribble a paragraph or two on a plain white paper and it feels surprisingly good to write. I feel the sudden urge to write it all out, to pour my heart out with the ink that’s vivid blue. I recall each and every event, every tiniest bit of deed in the recent past that may have led to being a loner. Here I was, sitting idly in the middle of work, never thought I’d be a loner but who can help it if I feel it so deeply within?

Probably the bedtime playlist, the small seemingly unimportant epiphanies every now and then, when ignored, along with other casual needs of indulging in my own company, what led to this?

We all fancy the idea of being alone but little do we really understand what it’s actually like to be lonely. When this guest knocks my door, I can’t help but want to write. Because fingers feel like friends.