My mouth is dry.

They have pulled out of my mouth words I wasn't willing to speak. No matter how consciously I averted my gaze from theirs,  they have forcefully lifted my face with demands of making me see what I have known for so long: it was not my world - I did not belong there. I was a tourist,  an onlooker,  an unwilling observer.

I didn't ask for conversations.  I only wanted invisibility, silence, coffee.