Twenty

He watched the strangers scud past his building far below, and wailed silently. He would move among them, but never be a part of them. After all he had been through for them, all the pain, all the sorrow, all the triumph, they would never know how his sacrifice had spared them.

Lost. Lost and alone. Lost and alone in a world he must always keep at arm’s length. They shunned him now; if they knew what he truly was, they would destroy him. He loved the world almost as deeply as the woman he had given up to save it, yet would never feel its comforting embrace.

He turned away from the window, lifted his gangly form off the stained, threadbare ottoman and scuffed across the carpet to the kitchen. Mac & cheese. He loved mac & cheese.