Alone

She stood in the middle of her concrete jungle, a gawky tower of pale flesh, mouth quivering, eyes wide. Her hands trembled a little and she unconsciously lifted one hand to her stomach and the other as if to steady her colorless lips from quaking.

There was no comfort in this moment.

She felt abandoned amidst the rush of people, estranged from her culture of cacophony; there were no friends here, only mankind churning through each other, shoes tapping the sidewalks, phones disturbing women's purses, horns beeping their own distainful tune.

She began to nibble on her left thumbnail, and her perfectly manicured toes shifted uncomfortably in her too-tight black heels. No matter how hard she tried, with her hair meticulously in place, her blush obsessively swept over her cheek, her shirt pressed three times for good measure - no matter how much she wanted to belong, to walk next to these human partners in society with that confidence she saw in seemingly every other face - no matter any of that, she could not feel what she wanted so desperately to feel; she just wanted to feel okay. She wanted to feel human, a part of her race, and not simply pressed over and over by its throngs.

Mustering all the strength she had left in her small, still-trembling hands, she opened her umbrella, and stepped out into the rain..