But he wasn’t there, not completely; his eyes frozen in time and space, as if locked onto something right ahead but ever so out of reach. And though it seemed the world around him stood still, his mind raced at speeds far beyond his comprehension, leaving him chasing his overlapping thoughts, feet still firmly planted on the ground beneath. But an uncomfortable sense of familiarity started to creep in; he’s been here before. Was he really lost?
His face, at first, seemed just as unremarkable and forgettable as a stranger’s on a train, one fleeting glance and never to be recollected. Look a bit closer and you’d see, every wrinkle, every line, every blemish, together like a map to his history, every imperfection a link to a memory he won’t let go of; the bags under his eyes holding way more than they were meant to, but one emotion away from release.