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Not Alone: What Does An Anthology Feel Like?, #1
Not Alone: What Does An Anthology Feel Like?, #1
Not Alone: What Does An Anthology Feel Like?, #1
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Not Alone: What Does An Anthology Feel Like?, #1

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When the world is a dull shade. When your truest companion is your own shadow. When the only one around is the person in the mirror; someone you don't know.

What does it mean, to be alone?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherOther
Release dateFeb 14, 2018
ISBN9781386466840
Not Alone: What Does An Anthology Feel Like?, #1

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    Book preview

    Not Alone - E Darkwood

    Offshore

    Iwas given a choice.

    Remain on familiar land, living in constant turmoil or go to an alien place with the promise of a brighter future.

    That which I knew or that which I could learn.

    I packed my bags.

    ! A

    I was brought to a learning facility, where I could interact with the natives. Where I was expected to adjust.

    Many where kind and understanding. Many were not.

    With the first I was eager to ask questions and practice new ways. Embrace my new home.

    With the others, I struggled to pretend.

    Some laughed at me in my face, some had the manners to do it behind my back.

    I wanted to blend in, I wanted to belong.

    I failed as much as I succeeded. It was all, alien to me.

    ! A L

    I cry tears of frustration at yet again saying the wrong words, acting the wrong way.

    There is so much I don't understand and no one can tell me why. Most are angered that I still ask.

    I try with all my might to be as the others.

    I swim with the current, I mostly remain afloat, but I somehow only feel like I'm drowning.

    ! A L O

    I carry on but am stopped cold, when those around me discuss things from where I came from.

    My heart sings along with the familiar tunes from a place I once knew as home.

    It sings for the things I won't admit I long for, the things they don't know, the things they misinterpret.

    I use to try to interact at such times, I use to try to rekindle the ways I once knew, but now I know better.

    I've been kept at bay by the looks of deadly scorn that come from correcting their own interpretations, from sharing the acts of my homeland.

    I never knew the longing for home until I came to another place.

    I always thought that home was where you live.

    I've

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