The walk

It was the height of the afternoon when I took myself for a walk.

Sunday meant that the otherwise busy streets were desolate, almost derelict.

On every corner a new sight.

Sidewalks have been the same since I met them

Displaying terrible sights,

Belching disgusting smells.

Now, home to many more of those in despair.

Right after an eternal struggle to get there, I realized my mistake.

Tired, I could not go back on my own and face everything again.

Accepting my defeat, I stepped in for a beer.

With each sip I remembered my foolish fantasies developed

On the way there.

Such a familiar place, yet no known faces: I was alone,

And nothing suggested I would not be.

So alone, in fact, I truly desired my deliriums to become true,

And to let myself disregard any old face.

Yesterday was still warm on my memory,

We saw the same movie, the same time, same place.

Completely different, we still met at the end.

Suddenly, I wished I could live such moments everyday.

In an involuntary real action museum, relive and re-meet past characters.

Vain hope took me over, and I asked for another beer.

As I stepped out, I knew I was too close to an affectionate memory.

Last Sunday I tried to be there, but now I was sure.

I knew why I had gone there, even though

I didn’t really want to find what I was looking for.

Sun was now more gentle, as if it expected me to walk there.

So I did, and the world turned so slowly.

Earth was almost coming to a standstill when I got there.

Not a cloud in the sky, the air so still it even felt like it was denser.

The pidgeons, roaches and dogs — all gone.

The trash and dirt? All in the same place, untouched.

My nervous steps screamed I shouldn’t be there.

A quick glance, no car. Timid gander, no apartment.

As I drove away, nothing changed.

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