A Bit of A Short Story ~ SIDEWALK ANGEL

December 6, 2011 § 5 Comments

The pavement is under my feet. The pavement is always under my feet, as I walk in the day time, face down. Eyes down, nose down, crooked mouth down. Shoe’s scuffed, from kicking them against the back of someone’s chair in the library.

                You get to know your feet like they’re your two best friends when you’re like me.

                People are all around. Their voices buzz. Their cell phones buzz. They all buzz. It’s obnoxious, to tell you the truth, but as much as I would like to give them glares—state my opinion without a noise—my head just won’t lift up. I’m concentrating on the cracks, on the bits of grey that are darker than others, like they didn’t mix the concrete well before they poured it.

                It occurs to me this is silly, or course its mixed well. They have hug trucks with intent only to mix concrete well. But why else would the cornet be so light by my left foot, and look normal by my right foot.

                Silly, silly, silly is what it is. But I move on. I can’t think one thought for too long anymore, of I feel like I’ll never stop. I’ll get stuck on one track, playing over and over again. Maybe that’s how they got the phrase a one track mind?

                There are some leaves on the ground. I can’t step on them for a crunch, it seems someone else has beat me too that. It used to be my favorite part of this season you know, that stepping on leaves. It isn’t any longer. Sometimes I think I am too old, other times I think I am just too sad.


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