You watch them laugh at the memories trapped in old photographs and twist words into complicated conversations. Their sharp attitudes tear through each other’s emotions.
The space between you and them is close but empty. No connectivity. No threadbare links.
They function without awareness.
You watch for ages. You observe their actions and reactions and consequences. You’re involved somehow, but you’re not really there.
They question you. Pester you. Drag you into their hurricane of sentences and accusations.
You’ll never understand them.