Walking. Concentrating on one step after another, is it too fast? Is it to slow? I wonder if people know, if they can see this walk has so much intention, so much passion and pain all ravelled in to one. No finish line, yet. Just determination to get to wherever it is I’m going.

I had no idea what there was waiting for me when I got there, Infact the opposite. I didn’t know where I was going, just what I was trying to get away from. I wanted to go. Take off. I had no plans to look back. This was the day. It was actually the 8th day that I had made this journey. Days scattered apart over 6 years, no one else knew of these journeys, because I had never managed to reach the destination.

Stopped. Stationary. Frozen on the pavement. My legs decided here would do for now. Silence, darkness, the odd orange glow spaced evenly in the distance. Wind pushed me from behind, my hood sheltering me from the chill slightly, but I could still sense the bitterness across my cheeks and nose. A car approached head on and by instinct I bowed my head and pulled my hood over tighter. No one must see my face, I don’t want anyone to look at me, see me, remember me. Once passed, my senses were heightened, the darkness, the breeze making the leaves on the hedge to my right dance. I stood there for what seemed like an hour, but maybe it was minutes.

I don’t know how I got here, it’s lighter than my last stop, I don’t recall the steps I took or path I followed. All I know is the breeze is stronger, the air feels frosty, my hands are cold and they are bare, gripping to the railing infront of me. As I look down, line after line leading into the distance, the blackness between them seemed so deep. All I had to do now was wait for a car.

Sitting in the floor cross legged, I light a cigarette. Hands purple and white. Winter was ending and spring was literally just around the corner, however the chill tonight was eery. Maybe it knew. I was ready. I resumed my earlier position, it was fairly easy to climb over, really sturdy, enough foot room on the outside to make my stand with confidence. Arms outstretched behind me this time. I look down, looks further than before. Do I hold my breath? Do I turn to face the other way? Everything stopped. Complete stillness and silence. No breeze, no distant road noise. No rustling leaves.

*ding ding* my phone. I had a text. It shattered the moment. First one for days. Spinning myself around and pulling myself to the railing, using one hand I unlock my phone. There it was. It read “oi, dickhead, what you upto? U ok?” On a small window, with a picture of my daughter and I in the background. I stared. Suddenly a sharpness hit my cheek, bringing my attention back. Then another, and another, followed by a flurry of heavy drops. I tilted my head back, my face completely pelted by raindrops, they merged with tears. It was short, bitter sweet, but it was enough.

I’m sat back on the tarmac, it’s wet, but milder than before. I don’t remember climbing back over or sitting down. Face still dripping, I look back to the sky. It’s so so clear. So deep and dark, but undoubtedly beautiful.

I’m home. My legs ache. Curled up in bed but fully dressed, face feels all tight and the bedside lamp is so bright.

Tomorrow is another chance

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