Re:

The woman behind the clear, glass wall watches life with VR glasses on. Nothing is real so nothing can touch her. Not the hurtful emotions, not the tangled mess of human relationships, not drama, not pain.

The glass wall is impenetrable. To love, to compassion, to feelings, to the mechanics of life that make us all human. All the memo plastered across the glass wall, fading with the wind, as she comprehend but does not fully sense.

A small part of her thought she was going insane, loud thoughts emitting from the gradually calcifying, corrugating shell of a person, only to have their routes foiled by the impenetrable glass.

But another part of her knew that the wall had sprung up all around her, because a visit from her old friend was imminent. She could feel its familiar shadows darkening in proximity.

I’m ready for you. Hello darkness my old friend.

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