Vignette/ prose i wrote for english, has to do with "connections' with people Options

[trainspotting011...]

Cords of essence weave throughout me, some connecting to other individuals, others intertwining with each other to form a jumbled mass that consequently is me. Few are connections that go unnoticed by me, due to my bizarre affinity for people. The afternoon is clear; a cooling wave of wind manipulates the espresso locks of my hair into complicated patterns. Finally letting wisps fall over my right eye. I do not make a move to rearrange them; instead I continue my path down the crowded street. I can hear the deep authoritative voice repeating “Chin up. Shoulders back.” I steadily move forward, walking with the nonchalant arrogance I readily learned. The voice continues, “Walk like you own the world, walk with confidence.” A voice I hear rarely in person, therefore my only remembrance of it is filled with mockery, laced with sardonic intelligence. My gait, so often described as swift, matches the stride of the chestnut haired teen to my left. Peripheral vision aides me to see the soft brown stepping stones that dot the right side of his neck slipping down past his collar to a place I will never see. I stare intently at his chiseled face, attempting to catch his eye. He turns slightly, locking his gaze with mine. Immediately I’m incarcerated by the autumn leaves in his gaze. My mind and heart reels as I realize that he, not I, has control over this correlation. Desperately needing to believe that I initiated this strange unspoken bond, my feet shift to bump my hip against his. My efforts are in vain. He halts suddenly, causing a swarming mass of locals to pool around us. He wins by softly uttering “What’s the point in this?” The wind picks up again, the hairs on his neck salute the span of blue above. I smile sheepishly “It’s simple, just like us.” As I turn to walk way, a lone thought burns a red haze in my mind, who is us?



it needs a title. care to offer a suggestion?