Reflections

The walk back to the car. Dark after sunset, a little too late to catch the purple in the sky, try and catch it tomorrow. The sound the heel makes when it hits the asphalt. Every day with that sound, every day at this time. The illusion of movement, more figurative than literal.

The pressure to continue moving forward, no end in sight.

Where am I going? Do I need to know where?

The car door shuts. Keys, ignition. Radio turned too high, every damn day that radio is too loud. Never remember to lower it….never learn. The drive is the same as usual, the traffic starts where it always does and ends a little too late to make it a peaceful trip. Always people that don’t know green means go and the 45 speed limit means to get the fuck out of my way.

Finally home. Finally, time to relax. The lighter, the joint, the cough. Always the same cough. Silence, in and out.

What happens next is the reflection, not in any way profound from an outside perspective, but inside there is disruption, conflict ensues. The walk, the asphalt, the radio, the traffic. All melt away, all hollow mountains that crumble. Moving past them, approaching the source.

The feet inside the shoe, walking the walk, hitting the asphalt. The hand that turned the radio too high. The mouth that condemned the lane switch with no blinker.

The conflict comes from within.

The walk to the car. Sunrise, the asphalt, the radio, the traffic.

Deliberate mockery