The air was thick and damp, his words hanging heavy in the sticky, putrid humidity.
"This is White..."
His smile was forced and feral, almost deranged. His eyes were wide and bloodshot and his pupils were dilated. Concerned passerbys would stop and ask him if he was alright, and if he couldn't find his parents, and if he was lost, and if he needed a ride back home, but he paid them no mind and kept walking.
They're all useless.
He then looked down at the doll cradled lovingly in his arms.
But not you...
He tightly hugged it to his chest and rocked in place, whispering promises of the beach and a blue house, apple trees, and collections of seashells and flying fish.
Not you...
He was surrounded by people, but he saw no one.
He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater. His lip twitched and he kept walking.