One Day Robots Will Cry

I am standing in the street, waiting, watching. But nothing happens.


No one even glances at me. I am nothing of significance, I suppose. Not a movie star, not gorgeous. I’m not making a scene, I’m not drawing attention to myself at all. I’m blending in. I might as well be the pavement they are walking on, or the building they are passing by, or the cloud wishing he could temporarily hide the sun.

A little boy, holding his parents’ hands, trying not to get lost in the sea of bodies. An old man, walking with a cane down the sidewalk, others carelessly bumping into him. A mother, carrying bags of groceries while trying to walk a dog. Someone sitting on a bench, hiding their face behind a newspaper. A shady-looking guy, possibly searching for his daily dose of heroine.

No eyes meet. No one is acknowledged. They have their destinations, no one else matters.

I now understand why, when surrounded by people, I feel so alone.





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