Far from friends. I was lost. Lost in the city. Lost inside. I was drunk. Drunk on a lost life. Drunk on love. Drunk on liquor. I stumbled slowly, slammed into a slow slump, settled on the sidewalk. Sleep.
I woke. I woke woefully. Woefully wakeful, wandering wordlessly. Wordlessly. Where were the words? Once the words won awards. Now, nothing. Not a nickel, nor notoriety. No longer a name, nor a novelist, now a lost nobody.
Peering provocatively past passers-by, a poster. A face. A flaccid, familiar face. Furiously foolishly I fling myself, flying for the face. The face forms.
It is me. Mirrored. Myself, many moons ago. My own successful self. Several seconds fly pass, lost forever.