Though solitude had never proved itself a fine companion, a certain stubborness prevented him from yielding to any alternative liaison! A certain stubborness of spirit was his inheritance, an heirloom for which he never had been able to find any takers.
His thoughts roamed the horizon of his apartment, the world outside could only promise turbulence. What did it mean; that smile, the young girls smile, whatever could it mean. He'd never found it difficult before, to refrain from any response, but this time he knew it was different. Perhaps she had seen through his steely gaze, seen to the broken core of his humanity.
Time to decide. To venture out or to remain; forever locked into a past he never knew, he wondered if the future would also remain unknown.
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