The Fall night air wafted in through open windows and bristled my skin. I shivered as the hairs on my arm raised in a subconscious effort to keep me warm. I listened to the muffled sounds of The City street several floors below my apartment, the impatient blaring of taxi horns and the muttering of irritated people. The hell of the night was just beginning.
I could feel the chasm of loneliness widen inside me. It felt so physical I imagined an autopsy being done with the coroner opening me up only to find a yawning black hole where my heart and other vital organs used to be. I smirked at the melodramatic thought.
Checked my phone for signs of life. No emails, no Facebook messages, no Twitter replies or retweets. I checked Google Chat; no-one was online. I thumbed through my Instagram feed, double-tapping some pictures of the summer in Mexico.
I forced myself get up, and paced around the apartment, before turning on the kettle in the crumbling kitchen.
I wanted to coffee, but I realized I would be up all night if I did. I stared at the coffee and at the Milo. This was the crossroads of my night. That notion was depressing enough in so I piled the Milo high, then added two teaspoons of sugar.
With mug in hand, I sat back down in my chair and picked up my phone. No emails, no Facebook messages, no Twitter replies. Nobody on Google Chat. No new Instagram photos.
I opened Vine, in spite of myself. At first I looked at new Vines, watching them loop several times before moving on to the next one. Before long, I had opened my own profile page and was reviewing old posts.
Long gone friends and family looped in front of me on the screen. Birthday parties and the going away speeches of forgotten workmates. And then a single Vine of Saul lying in bed, laughing hysterically. His copper colored lithe form clad in only blue boxers amid glaring white sheets. I watched the Vine on loop and when the screen dimmed, I stroked it, stroked where Saul’s face was, and the screen lit back up.
I fell asleep in the chair, phone in hand, waiting for someone to ask how I was.