I look to my left and there are a group of girls gossiping away about one of their friends that obviously couldn’t make it up to their standards. 

I turn to my right and see two businessman chatting away about some bullshit that’s probably putting money in their pockets and taking it away from someone less fortunate. 

I glance behind me and see the janitor. He’s the only one I’ll pay a spoken word to. 

‘Hello, how’s your day going?’ He always asks the same thing, and I always respond back,

‘Good. How is yours?’ With a small smile. Our eyes meet, I’m not chatty today, I’m solemn. So solemn. And he might be, too. He’s as unreadable as I am, and I think that’s why we understand each other. 

But he always repeats it right back to me, says he’s doing just fine. Even if we both know we’re lying. 

I pick up my things and leave the break room, walk outside and try to still myself before I start hyperventilating. You leave high school and nothing changes, they all just get older. 

I’m getting older.  

It’s funny, how truly lonely this world can feel, with so many people in it. I choke back a whimper, and go back to work. 


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