Shakes head, clicks “un-friend”, walks away.
Realizes no one noticed. Walks back in. Makes tsk-tsk noise. Wags finger.
Still not noticed. Melodramatically unties boots, takes them off, shakes dust off of them. Tries to slip boots back on while standing on one leg; falls over. Sits down, tries to look like he meant to do that. Replaces boots.
Increasingly frustrated with lack of response. Asks for paper and pen; writes ‘Open Letter To My So-Called Former “Friends”‘. Asks for hammer and nails. Tries to nail letter to door. Misses stroke; smashes finger. Chucks hammer away. Stifles pain.
Stuffs paper into pocket; will submit it as op-ed to local paper later, then publish it on LiveJournal when it is inexplicably rejected. Walks sadly away. Realizes no one can actually notice he’s walking sadly. Sighs, loudly, and repeatedly.
Stares into sky, contemplating the tragedy of the world. Mouths silent prayer for all the misguided souls. Trips over the hammer.