Friday, August 28, 2015

Getting off work

Tonight, after getting off work and having one of those 'Fuck it, I'm through with this shit!' episodes (pardon my French), I decided that it was time for one of my epic walks. It took a couple of false starts to get going, but I finally wound up out there at that big white water tank near the loop by going down the road close to were Leah used to live. There's some kind of UNT property out there, up north by the loop. A library, or something. You know where I'm talking about. Discovery Park! That's it.


So I wound up out there. I dunno why. I guess I had it in my mind to traverse, cross country, from this suburban development and on through the creeks and weeds and coyotes, emerging onto Hercules. Yeah. That's a real road, and that was my plan. Oh. Because I've done it before. Hercules leads to Sherman, and Sherman leads to Kroger.

Yeah. That was it, the plan... but guess what? I didn't do that. Tonight just wasn't the night I was hoping or wishing it would be, I guess. So I just came back the same way I went, and that's how my adventure ended... like a whoopee cushion sound. I did have it in my mind, however, to use up one of my saving throws to make some French toast when I got back to my compartment, so thusly rejuvenated, I decided to splurge my sudden excess of mood and take a slight detour to visit a thing I kind of liked.

It really wasn't much of a detour; just a different way to go. There's this house near the North Park area that reminds me of the one I lived in when I was a kid. Every time I walk by that place at night, the windows are glowing blue from the TV inside, and there's an old beater in the yard, with toys scattered all around. Familiar signs of life, you know. Like when I was a kid. Good, bad, ugly... I dunno. Probably all three. Signs of life.

Tonight, when I walked by that place, there weren't any lights on at all, and the windows were boarded up with solid pieces of plywood. That place had obviously been shut right down, hard. Reminded me of the old family homestead in Omaha, the way it was right before somebody burnt it down, hard.

I was a little bit flabbergasted with disappointment. I had wanted to see the life there. I just kind've expected it to be there, and it wasn't, so what I did when I discovered it like that, about twenty minutes ago, boarded up and shut down, was I stood there, gripping a stop sign, and I leaned against it, and I even started to cry - it don't take much to make me cry nowadays - and said, over and over, I dunno how many times... "This ain't right. This ain't right. This ain't right. This ain't right. This ain't right..."

Ain't that a helluva thing to confess at 3:47 AM? And to top off the whole gaudy mess, well... shee-it. There's three dwarf horses, not fifteen feet away from me, right this second! Three DWARF HORSES!

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