The Last Man

It's a strange feeling: finding yourself the only customer left inside an internet cafe that was, but a few minutes ago, so (noisily) full. It's an oddness that you can't quite place your finger on. Similar to finding yourself in a near-deserted booth of the monorail. It's almost unsettling except you keep trying to reason with yourself that it isn't. That it's quite a normal thing for places to find themselves empty now and then. But the proximity to such "blankness" disturbs me. Perhaps it reminds me only too well of how close we are to the abyss. Of how we harbor our own empty spaces.