me

The »me« that glances back at you furtively from the window of the darkened storefront as you tag along behind a group of acquaintances, smiling, self-satisfied acquaintances whose small talk refers to people and events about which you have only the vaguest familiarity. The »me« of the still, small voice tapping against the submarine of drunkeness. The »me« of surprise at having won the door prize at an event to which you received a late and half-hearted invitation.