Where We Go (Part VI)
The sidewalk was grey, the sky a bright blue, and everything seemed to shine. I walk past various buildings, each with a different smell to greet me: fresh bread, hops, barbeque, the scents of my city. It was so bright and a clear day. I couldn’t get past that. There was a slight breeze on my back. I managed my way out of the downtown area and onto the street that would lead me home.
It felt like forever since I had taken a walk, I mean time that was solely devoted to the act of just walking. The dips of the sidewalk reminded me of riding bikes as a kid. Taylor was a friend of mine then. He lived next door. We would create racetracks in the street and launch off the curb like professional racers. I missed being that young, that carefree and, in a way, I despised being reminded of it, if only a little. But that feeling was brief and passed quickly.
I had gotten back to my apartment fast, faster than I had expected. Sammy was laying on the couch and didn’t move when I opened the door. I called him to me and walked him down to the small patch of grass. He finished his business and we both went back inside. I thought about making some coffee and watching television. It was too hot for coffee, I decided. I walked into my bedroom and sat at the foot of the bed. I took off my shoes and then my watch. I fell backwards and just laid there for a few moments staring at the ceiling, staring through the ceiling, into the sky. I was there in my room, but not. I was nowhere. I was floating in the sky, then in space. The stars surrounded me. I was nowhere to be found. I imagined being an astronaut walking through the universe. There was nothing and there was everything. All I wanted yet couldn’t quite reach. But I was happy there, among the stars.
When I opened my eyes again it was just after seven. The games had started. I checked my phone but Jeffrey hadn’t called. Probably still out, I thought. I’ll leave him to it, but I was hoping to hear from him. I didn’t want to spend the night alone. But it really didn’t matter, I suppose. I just didn’t want to be home, didn’t want to do it again.
I decided on going out for a game. There were a couple different bars I could go to but trying to get a Hockey game on a television at a bar was a hard sell. We lived in California. Most people wouldn’t know a puck from a ding-dong. But it seemed to be getting better. One bar, Winger’s, was pretty solid and I could count on at least one game being on. I grabbed a jacket and sprayed cologne on myself. Why not, I thought. Then I left. For a brief moment I considered staying in and writing. It had been a hard coming for my words lately but I knew I had good material at hand. Heartbroken, and with good reason. A well deserved sadness that deserved to be written. I would do it later, though, when the truth would be flowing more freely.
