About two weeks ago, after months of self-imposed home imprisonment; I went out.
I went window shopping in a big bookstore.
I heard a man speaking very loudly.
"You know how many people in Malaysia uses a dictionary?"
When the other sentences seemed incoherent, I turned to look for the source of this noise.

It was a tall Asian man in his 40s.
He was talking to himself.
No one was with him.

My heart ached.
Oh no.
Another one.
Another one of us.
He looked quite well physically, handsome even.
If not for his behaviour, and his odd choice of clothes; he'd passed as just another ordinary dude next door.

I dare not look at him.
I was scared.

It could have been me.
It still could...
It really could.

My shame twisted my heart as I stole another glance of him.
Will he be ok?
Will I be ok?
Will we be ok?