"The first wall goes up ..."

For James it was always a physical sensation when he started to shut down.  When the conversation became too personal.  "Was that what holidays were like for you to?" Someone would ask and he would feel a tightness in his chest.  A feeling of discomfort in his bowels.  He had mastered the lie. "Oh yes." He would say.  But he was already gone.  Already moved past the conversation and thinking about how to extract himself from the social situation.  Sometimes he would pretend his phone vibrated and say he had to take a call.  "Excuse me." he would say.  "I have to take this."  He would drop a $20 on the table that covered more than his share and leave.  In the anonymity of street he would be able to breath again.  Strangers who didn't have questions passing him without a thought.