When I wake, it is still dark.

There are a lot of reasons for this - but the main contribution comes from my stances. Despite often feeling juvenile, I don't need a hall light. I've grown out of that. How much fear can darkness elicit if you can smite it with the flick of a button, after all?

I smile. Everything is still so new here. It's strange to consciously ponder the dark, however briefly. I thought I'd grown out of that.

I tap lazily against the light switch. It's a master switch - I've a small apartment. Some idiot installed neon tubes in the bedroom, though. Bizarrely, thus, the illumination outlines everything in my room, though the milky doorway from my 'foyer' (it's just big enough to hold my shoes, I joke), before colour floods in.

More elaborate colours swirl into view. I rise. I don't shine, but I'm happy. A new world, a new life.

I thought I'd do something against my 'loneliness'. I've invited neighbours and neighbours' neighbours. Not in here, of course. But this place is sat right on top an old warehouse. It's full of abandonned stuff. Maybe I can get to know people. Then things would be perfect.

A new world, a new life, with a place of adventure right under your butt and gratis abstract art in the mornings. I smile and drift out.

Someone's really early. I'm shy, and embarrassed, because he gave me a bit of a fright. "Thank you for coming," I say. Disappointment - all I get in response is a frown, and dismissive wave of the hand.

We're standing in the warehouse and it is still dark. I haven't turned on the light yet. "Is everything all right?" I turn the light on.

There's no answer but for a series of disheartened grunts. I want to help, but I don't want to be a bother. I cast my gaze down and apologise. "Sorry."

The place is huge. He sits down on a carton. He avoids direct eye contact - passively, though. He doesn't look away - he just doesn't look at me. I feel stupid. Am I missing some local social convention?

"Can I offer you a drink?" I ask.

I'll admit I expected more, but if he's depressed, and came here attempting to be polite, I can't condemn that. I don't want to condemn that. I would try to soothe, but I don't know the rules.

More people trickle in, slowly. I smile. So people are used to arriving more or less on time. Not spot-on. That's fine. It's good to know. I make a note to remember the leeway.

"Hello, greetings, pleased to meet you."

No one is talking. Is it me? Embarrassed, I look around, then down at myself. I'm wearing pants. I'm not some alien monster. I didn't forget to wash in the morning.

"Did I pick a wrong time?" I timidly inquire, directing the question at the newest visitor.

Is this society so different? They're talking to each other, but what about me? Am I that uninteresting? Do I break rules with my existence? In some places, they treat women like this. Maybe I should be veiled up, I wonder, bitterly.

More people. I still don't know what's wrong. I don't know what they're all talking about, either. The events seem unrealistic to me, but their expressions are solemn. "Do you remember?" and "I miss that." Was there some tragedy I'm somehow unaware of?

I'd love to know. I'd love to help. I frown. I'm irritated, but only because no one's acknowledging me.

Someone pricks me with a cocktail stirrer. I see, I shouldn't have asked for attention. I stare at them. They do it again. I narrow my eyes.

Again.

My hand snaps forward and seizes the offending item, twisting it around proficiently, before driving the tip into the person's eye. Deeply. I feel something give way... a pleasant pop sounds.

They sag wordlessly to the ground. I smile.

And then I see the door open, and an arm reaching in, seeking the lightswitch. I hasten over. "You can't do that, everyone will bump into something in the dark. They'll get hurt."

So they're not the most talkative bunch. They're still my visitors. My responsibility.

The arm continues to fumble.

I try to hit it, to make it go away. A sense of claustrophobia seizes me. So many people. Just one door. "Sir, you mustn't..."

The light dies with me.

It is still dark here.