10/24/14
He stepped into the light. He stepped out into the light.
He took another step. He stepped again. Counting his steps he began to walk. He
chose a point in the distance, the tallest tree he could see, and walked toward
the tree, hoping that when he arrived there would be some other concrete noun that
would make sense as a new destination. Counting steps with the conversation
looping in his head. When he arrived at the tree, nothing had changed. He
looked around for another destination; the clouds ran over the sun, crushed
Styrofoam pulsed like a beacon. It’s time to go back now she said, taking his
hand, we’ll do it again tomorrow.
I like that we don't know the exact circumstances of the man who is walking. Is he ill? Is he a mental patient? Someone recovering from an illness? Interesting.
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