The long pauses between notifications stretch me thinner, and my attempts to ward off the unwanted thoughts grow weaker. Is it something I wrote? Is it just a quiet week? Have my words lost their luster? Where is everybody?
I look for the orange light. I click it hoping to catch something there before it has refreshed on its own. I keep clicking even when nothing shows up. I feel alone. I feel small. I feel lost. Did I not visit enough posts this morning? Did I not leave enough comments? Am I being shunned? Where is everybody?
My stories glare at me, bore a hole through my head (through my soul?), like a (knife, baby, edgy and dull?) blast of lightning from all of my forgotten wizards. They demand an audience and I am not providing. They call me a cheater for quoting songs. They threaten to leave.
I am powerless to stop them.
In the gathering silence, the whispering of my words thunders like a storm. Did I cross a line? Have I been forgotten? Am I being ignored? Am I no longer worth reading?
Where is everybody?