I saw a traffic cone today. It wasn’t just a traffic cone, of course. That would be boring. It was in one of the stores that had an escalator going up and down. And somebody stuck a cone in between the two so it was just spinning around and around and around and around and-

You know where that went. I was just spinning there, with no end. I’m not sure if it even had a beginning…

I kind of related to that traffic cone. It’s been so long since something meaningful happened. So long. All these distractions, filling up the void where my life used to live. How long have I been doing this anyways? Just spinning in circles, never making any progress. Why am I even thinking about this? Maybe it’s all this self-reflection I’ve been doing lately.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

When was the last time I did anything of importance? When was the last time I thought about anything important? I’ve just been drifting along, stuck at the same spot on the same overpass in the same city for who knows how long.

Wait, how long has it been? So long that I no longer recognize the language of the signs and billboards. So long that anybody I knew must be long gone, or worse. So long that I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I can’t keep doing this. Revolving around like some god-forsaken traffic cone stuck between two escalators. I know I’m better than this, moping for the rest of my life. I don’t even know when that will be.

After all, I’ve been stuck here for an eternity already. What’s going to happen in one more?