She Stares

Being haunted by someone isn’t as bad as you think it would be.

People are so...

Detached from the perpetuity which encases ourselves as a collective nowadays.

Desensitised springs to mind at first. But the ultimate ending is detached.

Detached - We are wilfully detaching ourselves.

It is a choice. Willingness to separate our neurochemical profile from the frontal lobe of life.

We all walk around with these godforsaken living objects in our pockets which at any time, we can pull up any fact about anything on, contact random strangers if I wanted to, call my friends, call my family, order some socks, and even a tasty sweet treat to my very doorstep within seconds.

We are all prevalent of this web of connectivity, but yet the idea that we have all been connected in another way long before wires or plugs or screens and cables seems

An almost schizophrenic idea. Religious nonsense.

The breakfast finishes with a clink of my coffee cup as I face the ceramic bowl of bran flakes and yoghurt.

She is staring at me again.

Sometimes she’s gone for days. Sometimes she smiles and laughs and even jokes with you.

But there is once in a while, she will, just...

Stare.