Shay saw the circle widening by every blink. A crowded circle. Much like the ones some of us tend to surround themselves with on an imaginative lapse when a feeling of reflective unwieldiness sets in. "I'm not so sure anymore", mumbled Shay, as her eyes widened exponentially with the growth of the crowd.
"What's that?", an impetuous response resounded from the lankily appearing man to her right. With his pinstriped Gucci suite, and the symmetrically combed, golden blonde hair, he actually might as well fit into the crowd, thought Shay, as she tried to somehow pick up her thoughts to deliver a convincing explanation. “Pick up her thoughts”, yeah, that was quite a fitting depiction, with regard to her shattered collection of memories. “It’s quite… astonishing.” Her usually low voice sunk down by the last word, dictating the opposite effect on to the receiver of this rather bold conversation. “Got you.” The otherwise so honeyed and cheerful vocalization of her communication partner was too blunt, and he, the receiver, was ridiculously offhand with her, felt Shay. “Ridiculous”, she started to dwell into a stream of consciousness again, “that’s summing up the entire situation I’m in right now”. As Shay continued to amble towards the rather transparent pictures of her past – the very meta-experience wasn’t transparent at all, obviously much to her disliking – she saw the circle rotating again. It took her some time to realise that, the circle, and its – what appeared to be – straight rowed human particles, was now narrowing the gap. The gap between her petite figure and the (to her) yet unknown species, that is. She clung to the idle companion on her right with the same pace and determination as someone who is grabbing after the very last slice of a Quatre Fromage Pizza at a student dorm’s communal kitchen. And Shay was familiar, now with both, to an unpleasantly high degree. He didn’t show any signs of reaction. His motoric abilities seemed to have been regressed to a prenatal mode. “Inertial sensory”, a calm voice narrated, echoing as imperatives in her mind. She grasped her acquaintance’s arm tighter, although fully aware that he had spoken those very words. “Come on, you got to remember. Remember, Shay, remember”, as she silently repeated to herself. She thought that closing, instead of peering her eyes, might be the best course of action in view of the situation. And so she did…

“It’s so lovely!”, a low voice shrieked from the middle of the room. “Mum, don’t you think it’s lovely?!”, you could hear her now from the integrated – en suite – bathroom, almost with a British-like enunciation. The room was indeed lovely, not for its modest view on the college's backyard, but for its appeal of energy.
There was a knock on the door – just as she was about to indulge into the realms of financial "treatments", as she referred to her studies, partly in jest.

It took her a second and a half knock until she opened the door.
“I’ll show you around”. She was surprised – not about his attributes of hospitality, as she was already aware of those being innate to the British culture - but rather about the mere fact that he was her first encounter since she arrived at the dorm a few weeks ago.

The usual suspects of shadows made their way through the elegantly contorted avenues of high rises. Yet, there was a different feeling to the numerous strolls she had taken since her first day in the city. Evan, she felt, didn’t stop talking that day, and the previous days when both of them met for brunch at the local café around the corner. And today, she remarked herself, it was no different. In fact, Shay was so intrigued and engaged in their conversation that she didn’t monitor her surroundings as eagerly as she usually did. Because, in fact, there was not a thing to be monitored. At least nothing astir. That day, they didn’t come across one single person or animal, for that matter. “Maybe it’s because of the path we chose”, she shrugged it off. “Or maybe it’s because it’s a summer day on a weekday”. She was good at that. Pulling up an array of self-reproaching explanations out of her sleeves. But no matter what it was, Shay very well knew that it was neither of them. Or of any of the justifications from Evan’s pool of antique rhetoric, for that matter. For it mattered, Shay, for it mattered!
On that day, Shay wanted to take a trip to the Millibank in order to enjoy the breath-taking view from its platform onto the city, but just as they arrived at the high glassed revolving door, marking the entrance of the steel-and-brick embroidered building, Evan stopped abruptly. He had a quick glance at the now uncovered part of his arm. “What a highly futuristic watch”, Shay thought to herself, “you can’t even see its attached bracelets”.

This is the first short story I've written, and it's not complete yet. I'd just wanted to see what you think of it as of now.