I am standing on the mall’s roof, right next to the movie theater. I have just gotten out of work and I’m waiting for her to pick me up. The soles of my feet ache and I feel as though I’m sinking into the depths of the ground. My music plays in my ears and I’m watching couples enter the AMC. I have my arms stretched out, my back against the edge, like those who are about to smoke. But I’m a girl with no cigarette, no beer can. Beside my purse of personal belongings, I’m empty handed; I possess nothing. And I’m the loneliest stranger.