When thoughts turn into feelings, they become a hazard. Everything feels too small, the walls are spaced too closely to one another and so are the pavements leading down memory lane. They used to fit two pairs of feet with room left to dance and be merry, to do pirouettes and cartwheels, but now, it makes way for only me, and even that alone is inadequate.
Does the world always shrink ever so slightly like that? How have I never noticed the days becoming shorter or realise that the end of the road is now just a stone's throw away? I am alone and still, I feel the need to fight for the air I breathe.
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