"Premeditate future evils", the Stoic tells me. I close my eyes.
I see a beautiful, smart, and kind woman. She holds a baby in her left arm and clings to the hand of a young boy with her right. He is shy and hides his face behind her arm. A spunky young girl grasps the seam of the her mother's dress.
I see them. They are beautiful. I spend a moment to make them mine. Now I imagine them melting away, and I am alone.
I have some generic and fatal disease. I will live long enough to suffer, but not before my mother's death. I am alone, again.
I try to hid my sickness, but others find out and distance themselves. I am alone, truly.
I close my eyes and die. Now I am alone, finally.
I open my eyes once or twice—I'm not sure. The sun is shining and there is coffee in my cup. I am alone, and that's okay. For now.