by Sweetie | Score: 2400
So, early in the morning when my husband left for work, I got dressed, had a cup of coffee standing in the kitchen, then went out the front door. I walked.
It was an urban neighborhood of old shops, apartment buildings, duplexes-- pretty interesting walking, really. People sat on their front porches or stoops reading the paper and smoking or drinking coffee. Why weren't these people at work somewhere? I assumed the old ones were retired, but why weren't the 20-somethings at a job or school? Who was supporting them?
I became a familiar figure in the area. I don't know what people thought of me. I didn't look homeless. Sometimes I wore a messenger bag just so I looked purposeful. But my only purpose was to be out of the apartment. There were plenty of moths outside, too, but they weren't as scary because I could move away from them. I didn't feel trapped or cornered like I did at home.
They were evil. They were the agents of some evil force that wanted to scare me to death. It might still happen, but I'd avoid that fate as long as I could by walking, moving, covering the same streets and blocks every day, by the hour. It was 50 blocks into downtown and I routinely did that and back most days. Sometimes I went in a different direction, but the familiarity of the same route made me feel just a little bit sane. Ah, who was I kidding? I was as batty as they come. With no end in sight. This was me for the rest of my life. No help. No future.