A solitary wayfarer treading a pervasive concrete jungle, She passes by the non expressive tilted down faces. A few of them tilted in weariness, drifting into the dream world while most were immersed in the virtual world. She stopped near the teen twiddling his thumb swiftly across the glass. He slid across the cushioned seat intuitively making space for her. His ears were muffled with the puffy cushions of music. Like the faint hint of moonlight shining through the smog that she caught in between the towering skyscrapers as the train sped into the dreary night, she could hear “The smiths” dribbling from his cushions. She mumbled a warm greeting to which the teen reluctantly nodded his head and quickly retracted back to his course of damaging thumb ligaments. The melancholia of loneliness was hitting her hard. A lonely soul craving for human interaction. “Ta ding” , a sharp note peeked from her bag. She smiled. It was her.