6: or A Walk With a Friend

It’s midway through April and I can see my breath, try as I may I can’t seem to rid the cold from my skin. It’s rather late in the evening and I’m rather late coming come. Ten minutes I’d say aloud 6 hours ago, ten minutes I’d say, then I’ll wander off and down the way. I’ve never really understood the concept of time. Time, be on it or lose everything, time, spend it wisely or regret it, time. I can never find anything to do with it so all I ever do is waste it, good ole time.

The rain’s pretty heavy tonight, big drops, wet drops, the kind that seep down to the bottom of your feet, adding weight, pressure, miles. Each step gets heavier, and heavier, slower I walk, through the rain, midway through April. I’m nearly there now, home, and in my wake is a raging hunger and mind-blowing headache. It’s midway through April and I’m not wearing shoes, it’s wet and I lost my sandal somewhere between here and the state line. Oh sandals, how you were supposed to be kind. I was never a designer of great ingenuity, I never discovered a cure, saved the world from hunger, but I thought I knew how to at least walk in sandals.

The rain came down, it was like god himself was pissing on me, I’ve never felt so alone. I decided to run, flee, save myself from the holiest of golden showers. As come up my block, my neighborhood, my place, I slipped. Now there’s pain, and cold, and loneliness. Ten minutes I said, ten minutes. I didn’t think a walk would become such punishment.

I pick myself from the cold wet ground, I don’t even dust myself off, the rain will settle me. I continue to walk, holding my head high, despite the thick, drenching water pouring from the sky. I’m nearly there, just feet from the door, I’m nearly home, safe and warm. As I reach out my hand, and grip the doorknob a cold rush, a shiver, a pang of fear. Shaking, cold and wet, midway through April, standing in the rain that will soon kill me, I realize, I forgot my keys inside.