At two thirty in the morning everything in the street is calm.
There is a trash can overturned in the alley on the corner where the deli sits, and a cat sits beside it casually moving it’s paw through the contents.
It must have found something, because it begins to eat. It doesn’t look up as I pass, it doesn’t notice me.
Perhaps, I do not exist. It is a thought I have often, at this time of the night.
When the streets are clear of the noise and bustle of human activity.
Perhaps the world has ended and I am the last human on earth.
Or, worse still, I have died and the world continues on and I am alone, unable to communicate with those around me. It is my nightmare, my terror.
It reminds me of high school when my friends (or at least that is what I thought of them) stopped speaking to me.
They ignored me .
This story was written in 5 minutes using the prompt “it is what I do at 2.30 in the morning when I can’t sleep.”
If you don’t know what a freewrite is visit @mariannewest here is a link to the introduction post: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/writers-or-wanna-be-writers-wanted-be-free-freewrite
Check out my original post on Steemit