... the idea that we are alone...
My boots fall endlessly upon the poorly lit streets at night. I can feel the strap across my shoulder from which my bag dangles creating a sweaty blotch on my t-shirt beneath it. After walking endlessly the same carpet all day youd think my feet would be numb to this mile walk home, but each footstep seems to remind me of the hundreds that came before it. This semi-suburban street winds its way past a playground surrounded by the fences you get so used to climbing in your youth; I look across the street to my left into the dark maze of swings and slides, the mesh of the fence creates a dull gray haze over it all as I pass and my gaze works its way through the many holes in the diamond shaped wire weaving. A car drives by, just a dark form shining its headlights into my face, awakening me from my trance kept steady by the beat of my soles on the pavement. My eyes fall back to the steady movement of the sidewalk, as if I was just walking to keep myself in place as the earth rotates beneath my feet. The yellow rooms lights that settle on the sidewalk from the apartment complex give the tediously maintained bushes in front of it a Feunetian contrast. I drift up on the thin beams of light to watch them struggling through the tightly drawn curtains in the windows above. Again the steady river beneath me and the rubber thump of each footstep. A man is walking my way, another sailor of this waterway, keeping rhythm with the soft fall of his sneakers on the processed stone. I dream of two boats passing on a canal, they stop and the captains talk, exchanging stories and a smile. But, just as two boats passing in the night his eyes stay steadily ahead of him, not even seemingly noticing my gaze. Oh, where are you sailing that your time is so pressed, and your destination so important, that you do not have time to share a smile and a story with another captain of this strange river we sail together.
It is many more footfalls before I reach my block, a steady wall of connected houses. I steer myself around the corner preparing to walk down the hill to my door. A woman stands on the opposite side of the street, bathed in yellow street-lamp light. Instinct works its way through my nervous system as it often does on nights that I don my table serving garb, my eyes fall below me to my feet and the path ahead. My eyes touch her for a second as I plot my course. In that moment I see she is looking at me, squinting as if she can barely see me. She catches my attention with her gaze. I can see by her expression that my image does not resolve itself to be, in her mind, a threat. A smile shines on her face and I see she has only one tooth to reflect the dim street light.
A question, Excuse me, as if she were interrupting some activity that was very important to me, Could you do me a favor? I find myself saying yes, but wondering, by some trained feeling, if I should have. Could you walk me to the corner, I dont really feel safe walking here alone. I walk with her and we share not a sound, the few footsteps to just the end of the block on which we stood seem short and she is thanking me and wishing me a goodnight moments later. Never do we share our names, not to pass even an idle word did we break the short silence of the walk. I was just a means to her and to what end I do not even know. Is the world big enough for each of us to have his own, never sailing the same waters or looking up into the same sky.
My boots fall endlessly upon the poorly lit streets at night. I can feel the strap across my shoulder from which my bag dangles creating a sweaty blotch on my t-shirt beneath it. After walking endlessly the same carpet all day youd think my feet would be numb to this mile walk home, but each footstep seems to remind me of the hundreds that came before it. This semi-suburban street winds its way past a playground surrounded by the fences you get so used to climbing in your youth; I look across the street to my left into the dark maze of swings and slides, the mesh of the fence creates a dull gray haze over it all as I pass and my gaze works its way through the many holes in the diamond shaped wire weaving. A car drives by, just a dark form shining its headlights into my face, awakening me from my trance kept steady by the beat of my soles on the pavement. My eyes fall back to the steady movement of the sidewalk, as if I was just walking to keep myself in place as the earth rotates beneath my feet. The yellow rooms lights that settle on the sidewalk from the apartment complex give the tediously maintained bushes in front of it a Feunetian contrast. I drift up on the thin beams of light to watch them struggling through the tightly drawn curtains in the windows above. Again the steady river beneath me and the rubber thump of each footstep. A man is walking my way, another sailor of this waterway, keeping rhythm with the soft fall of his sneakers on the processed stone. I dream of two boats passing on a canal, they stop and the captains talk, exchanging stories and a smile. But, just as two boats passing in the night his eyes stay steadily ahead of him, not even seemingly noticing my gaze. Oh, where are you sailing that your time is so pressed, and your destination so important, that you do not have time to share a smile and a story with another captain of this strange river we sail together.
It is many more footfalls before I reach my block, a steady wall of connected houses. I steer myself around the corner preparing to walk down the hill to my door. A woman stands on the opposite side of the street, bathed in yellow street-lamp light. Instinct works its way through my nervous system as it often does on nights that I don my table serving garb, my eyes fall below me to my feet and the path ahead. My eyes touch her for a second as I plot my course. In that moment I see she is looking at me, squinting as if she can barely see me. She catches my attention with her gaze. I can see by her expression that my image does not resolve itself to be, in her mind, a threat. A smile shines on her face and I see she has only one tooth to reflect the dim street light.
A question, Excuse me, as if she were interrupting some activity that was very important to me, Could you do me a favor? I find myself saying yes, but wondering, by some trained feeling, if I should have. Could you walk me to the corner, I dont really feel safe walking here alone. I walk with her and we share not a sound, the few footsteps to just the end of the block on which we stood seem short and she is thanking me and wishing me a goodnight moments later. Never do we share our names, not to pass even an idle word did we break the short silence of the walk. I was just a means to her and to what end I do not even know. Is the world big enough for each of us to have his own, never sailing the same waters or looking up into the same sky.