Distracting Myself from What Really Hurt
Like most people in moments like that, I avoided thinking about what actually mattered. Instead, I focused on small, pointless things. I kept going over how stupid it was that I’d worn thin socks instead of thick ones. I promised myself that once my bonus came in, I’d finally buy a proper coat.
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Those were the “safe” thoughts—the ones that didn’t force me to admit how exhausted I really was. And the truth? I felt drained before I’d even stepped into the office.
The Woman by the Wall
That’s when I noticed her. Sitting low against the building, right between the polished marble of the lobby and the freezing sidewalk. Usually, security would’ve moved her along, but it was too early—and too cold—for anyone to deal with that.
She looked like she was trying to disappear into the wall itself, pressing closer as if she could steal a bit of warmth from inside. She wore a faded purple sweater, the kind that’s been washed so many times it’s covered in little fuzz balls. No coat. Nothing else.
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The “Polite Ignore”
