Here

Eager to talk to someone about something other than myself, other than my dead dog, other than my inability to close the incredible loss that had opened inside me.

So, I went downtown, drove my car into the heart of the unaware, uncaring city and found a parking lot.  I left my car there, descended the grotty stairwell, with its odors of gasoline and urine, down to the street level, where I lost myself in a sea of humanity, became just a mote within it, drifting like a water molecule in a great ocean of water, unknown, unknowing, unremarkable.  No one knew me or cared; no one knew what I felt or cared.

Lost, I paused at an intersection, waited for the streetlight to change.

And I saw him again.

The sign said “Don’t Walk” in bright orange, and I stopped at the front of the crowd of people poised behind me.  The traffic sped through the intersection, and I stared dumbly ahead, waiting for the light to change, for the orange letters to become white and say, simply, “Walk.”

Across the street, at the other corner, a similar group of people hovered on their curb, waiting for their light to flash.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)