6.11am

It’s raining this morning, and all of us are packed tightly under the bus stop. We are so close that the man next to me yawns, and I can feel his breath, hot on my ear. The closeness makes me feel ill.

I keep having strange, intimate dreams about people I don’t even know anymore, or like. I wake up from them hungover; the feeling stays close, leaving behind something I can’t shake off. Last night’s dream was about my creepy coworker from a few jobs ago. I was doing his laundry in my house. I was kneeling on the floor, hanging his socks on the drying rack, and he sat at the kitchen table, facing away - the back of his balding head delicate, like an overripe fruit.