Camilla Strand

The Krongling

I was standing in a corner of a loud nightclub wondering why I had bothered to go out again. Another dark club and another lonely night. I looked in my little black book where I had collected compliments my friends had given me in the past as a way to build my confidence. Yet here I was, unable to strike up a conversation with anyone. I looked down at page three. “You are so cool; you practically define a whole new genre of cool.” My friend had written that down after I posted a photo of me winning a hot dog eating contest. I looked around the room as the band on stage blasted their music, the drums were so loud I could barely think. I don’t think I can handle much more of this. I decided to leave and go home, promising myself I would try some other night in some other club to make friends.