Submission, by Justin Wall

I used to like seeing the young woman who shares my daily commute to the office. We’ve never exchanged more than a handful of awkward, polite glances but her seemingly cheery disposition temporarily restored my faith in humanity. However, it did not take long for her to replace exuberance with a vacant glare. It’s the same look I’ve seen on a thousand faces before. I used to wonder if she lived a life more fulfilling than my own but judging by the tear-stricken face I see before me, it’s highly unlikely. I once feared living a solitary existence, but not anymore.