short stories: him (part one)
He felt like an alien; he obviously didn't belong and he wasn't sure how to keep pretending that he did. I guess that happens when you have lived outside of your passport country for almost all your life. It might tell you where you are from but it doesn't necessarily mean you will belong there when you go back.
He fiddled with his watch as he tried to talk to her. What was wrong with him? There must be something they have in common, after all, he knew all about exotic places, what to do if you found yourself lost in the city, all the different types of coffee beans, but all she wanted to talk about was about the local news and the funny thing that happened on the soap opera last night.
Like he even had a bit of interest in that soap opera or whatever song was popular, or at least whatever she was humming that he couldn't decipher.
Inwardly he sighed, faked a smile, and prodded through.
At home he felt more at peace, he was surrounded by his things and internet. He could chat with his old friends or reread his favorite books. He loved leafing through the pages, feeling the texture underneath his skin, and leaning his nose close to smell it. After reading a few pages, he would get up and prepare himself a cup of coffee.
He sat down, cupping his hands over the cup, and let his mind wander.
I see you hiding your face in your hands
Thinking of faraway lands
You think no one understands
No one understands