I hear nothing but the hustle and bustle of the city. Cars with flashing lights zip past me. People talk, some loud, some quiet. I whisper to myself. “This is what it’s like to go unnoticed.” I take in a deep breath and inhale the freezing air. It smells like ice here. Ice and cigarettes.
I shove my hands in my pockets, leaning into the sounds of the city. It’s absolutely alive with light. It’s electric with movement. The ground is moving and I am still. This is where I want to be.
I pass a warm coffee shop, closing down for the night. I look above and notice there are no stars. That’s alright, there are stars on the ground here. Bright ones.
The faux fur lining comforts me as I make my trek down the street. It reminds me of home, of warmth. Of happiness and of mother. I don’t miss her then, though, because I am not that girl. I don’t miss people.
I get a weird look from a man across the road. He asks me with his eyes, “Who are you?” I let him wonder. I’ve got a quiet night to go home to.
This photograph was taken by Gerald Macua. Yes, I have his permission to use it. Find him on Instagram, or search his name online. You’ll find more than one hundred beautiful pictures taken by Macua.