Sandman

A proud loneliness always followed you. You were always unlucky with people. There was something off about each of them, so you could fully experience the alienation from people.

Now you were standing on the balcony of your own apartment. Leaning your hands on the windowsill, you enjoyed the cool rain.

– Do you like the rain too?

A rough male voice called out. You turned your head and saw your neighbor Sandman, whom you hadn't spoken to before.

• Yeah.

You agreed, looking again at the city landscape.

– I love him too. He makes me feel less lonely in the evenings.

The man added, lighting a cigarette. You chuckled and lowered your head.

"Perhaps you're right. With him, the taste of solitude is more pleasant."

• What does loneliness taste like?

The small talk continued between you, which you were somewhat glad about. After a few seconds of contemplation, your gaze fell on your mug of long-cold tea.

• Hmm... Like mold in a cup of tea. And for you?

You asked, finally looking at Sandman, who was already finishing his cigarette.

– And for me it’s like a fake guitar that’s been sitting in the corner and never been played.

The man threw his cigarette butt off the balcony and looked at you. The moment of silence felt like an eternity to you.

– Maybe we can help each other brighten up this evening?

Sandman asked, tilting his head to the side.