The Clock.

So, it’s been a while since I have shared anything on here. But it’s Monday, so, why not. Over the summer I wrote a lot about anything, but I always had this one idea. This story about a guy looking back. A guy who sat down one night and wrote about a moment in his life that had passed him by. I let this idea brew for a long while mainly because I did not know where to go with it. I loved that idea though, of looking back and seeing something again, but living in the present. Yet, no matter which way I spun it, the story could never be happy. As humans we are flawed in looking back so often on the bad and not the good. I don’t know what this story is meant to serve, or what the purpose of it is, but it is a story about a human. A guy, who is looking back. It isn’t happy. Nor was it supposed to be. I think there was something deeper and realer in the story this way. I hope you enjoy it.

He was tired.

He could feel the heaviness weighing on his eyelids.

Shit. He could feel it brewing behind his eyes.

It had been a while since he had slept well. Most nights were restless. Tossing and turning between the sheets hoping to find some sort of serenity.  Searching, hunting down, that one spot where he could find an escape.

A place where he could close his eyes and leave the world behind, even if only for a few moments.

“Tonight,” he thought, “maybe tonight I will get some goddamn sleep.”

 

Sidewalks.

Each step I took along a long, dark, road was one step away from the past and one step closer into the future. I turned around and looked back at where I had just came from and realized just how far I had traveled in the span of half an hour. My eyes traced the sidewalk as it thinned out and curved around a slight turn. Headlights of a car began to peer around the corner and before they met my eyes, I turned around and continued to walk.

“Three miles,” I thought.

It would be 2.4 miles, actually.

The walk was calming and I found myself rambling, just emptying my thoughts and views through a phone.

It is funny how it works out. How we have these ideas, or thoughts, but we cannot fully describe them or put them into perspective until someone else, or something else, does it for us. We see a scene in a movie, or hear a verse of a song, or a paragraph in a book, and then all of a sudden we think to ourselves, “That is what I have been trying to say.”

This happened on my said walk.