It's when you look through people.

She was bundled in cool colors keeping her warm against Tennessee's snappy dry cold. She smiled at me, but it was more of a grimace, her teeth more of a grit than a grin. You could tell, though, that she wanted to smile. She smelled richly hallow. It was a sort of smell that lingered in my nostrils after she left and before she came back again.

Her face was folded around her mouth and eyes, envelopes of squeezed flesh. She told me that she needed to learn. I said, here is a road sign covered in red tape. We'll peel it off together. In the end, she was thwarted by mischeduled madness, dislocated hours. She looked at me and I could hear her throat vibrate as it held back the very ocean that put her city to ruins. She said, I need to call someone.

I'll never forget that watery stare, as if she were still drowning, waiting to be saved.

currently: Affected

current picture: to be added at a later date.