She walks out alone into the darkness and wonders why she is alone. She’s not overly fond of people, but she does like company. It’s pitch dark and she stops her walk for a moment to look around. The water tower near stands out, stark white against the gloam.

A man behind almost bumps into her. Giving each other forced apologetic smiles, they move on about their ways, he to a waiting car and she to her parked one. Something has knocked her cheerfulness off-kilter and left her feeling lost. Looking around, she wonders what she is doing there. She cannot recall feeling so alone, so purposeless, being in a place far far away, under an uncaring sky where even the stars are unfamiliar. At that notion she pauses mid-thought and looks up. It can’t be that alien if she can still spot Orion, twinkling away cheerfully. She sits in her car and drives away in a cloud of pensiveness. A line repeatedly drums itself within her consciousness:
Wasted chances, a wasted life.

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