• Mr. Peterson avoided eye contact as he walked down the busy sidewalk. He turned a corner and everyone seemed to disappear. I’m alone, he thought. Mr. Peterson’s head almost swelled like a balloon, with all the thoughts he kept having. About death, about his dead baby girl, about how his wife had almost left him for his boss. He stood under the lone lamppost on the street. It clicked on. His shoulders dropped as he saw his apartment light on; his wife was going to yell at him.
    About what? You ask? We will never know, he walked away and never returned.