“The Market”
It was the third of October, a day almost like no other.
The sun awoke from its slumber.
the trees arched their branches, as if reaching out to touch the sky, while the leaves painted a vibrant tapestry of oranges, reds, yellows, and browns.
The wind harshly whispered in my ears and tugged the hairs of my skin.
Today felt like no other, only another year, a new number bestowed upon me.
I went to my usual spot, a market down the street, not too far from home.
Around this time, it was typically busy.
Many came from different cities, for the county’s pumpkin festivities and contests.
The market got loud, buzzing with children’s laughter and lovers’ joy.
I, however, was alone. Like, completely alone. Not quite literal, as I was in a store filled with happy strangers.
But I was..alone. I felt a strong connection, strong desire, a longing to be here, but it was one sided. I was never invited or welcomed, but I came anyway.
Employees don’t greet me, I don’t receive smiles, waves or a nod in my direction. I have come to the same market all my life.
In the midst of ever-changing seasons, constant rearrangements, and the influx of new products, employees, and customers, I find solace in the memories of strangers. Their faces, their walking style, their voices, and even the smallest details of their lives remain etched in my mind.
I am well acquainted with the wild, sad, and humorous lives of both new and old employees, right down to their children, their childhood memories, and their previous occupations. I didn’t experience sadness, happiness, or jealousy towards their way of life or the lack of attention I received. Yet, a lingering sense of discomfort dwelled within me.
None of them knew anything about me, aside from the fact that I was no one, a ghost, an surpassing enigma. An entity that manifested itself during the day, blending in with humanity on the surface, yet harboring emptiness within.
I was unlike those surrounding me. Or if I was, people seem to conceal it well. Too well and it irked, no despised me. I craved to uncover the reasons behind my dissimilarity and their distinctiveness, to empathize with their feelings and comprehend their experiences. I wanted to know why I was different, why they were different. It was just a store, from what I can tell.
A fine establishment, no doubt, but still just a store.
A spot to purchase groceries, a spot of convenience.
Even without the festivals or events, everyone here was happy.
How?
– ??
Poetry
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