Keep Walking

Spring was somewhere around the corner, maybe a few blocks up. I could almost smell the warmth, sun, life, relief.

Almost.

My coat was tied around my neck as a cloak and my spine was tense as I walked. I clenched my jaw as I had been doing for the last couple of weeks. When I noticed my spine or my jaw gnashing into themselves I tried to let go of whatever thought or emotion was burrowing itself into me, but it wasn't always possible. My back usually ached and my mouth bled. I walked on.

Watch for ice.

I had been hearing a woman's voice calling my name for the last year or so. Usually when I was stressed or sad, but not always. I didn't recognize the voice but it was always the same. Gentle. Pretty. It worried me sometimes, but it wasn't a priority. 

Bottle of wine in my pocket. 1.5 liters. None of that 750 ml shit. It fit perfectly in my pocket and if I kept my arm down on main roads wasn't totally obvious. I walked side roads. Pulled from the bottle, stuffed it back into my coat and tried to keep my fingers warm. 

I had a melody in my head and I would forget it by the time I was home. I had fear in my chest but I would forget it by the time I finished the bottle. A long time ago a doctor told me I needed to stop drinking immediately because my liver was about to shit out. It apparently hadn't and I smirked to myself as I pulled again.

Long stretches of cracked and filthy sidewalks unwinding past me and cracked and filthy houses filled with families and maybe love and maybe not and they may as well have all been the same people for all I knew or cared. I have long spoken of my own alienation and sometimes I wondered if I had made myself an alien, or if I was meant for this, but I don't believe in destiny, and I don't believe in making anything of myself either so there had to be another answer. The only certainty was that I wasn't one of them.

No, that isn't true, I thought. 

Shut up, I thought right back.

The sun felt nice but the occasional breeze was difficult. Soon I wouldn't need the coat. Soon it would be spring and I'd be happy. Probably. 

Turn a corner, pull.

A man in his driveway watched as I stuffed the bottle back into the pocket. I nodded. He nodded. I thought I might steal a slice of pizza from the gas station to see if I could. I thought I might hold up a gas station to see if I could. Lock the doors. Kill the clerk. Negotiate. I thought I might suicide by cop. See if I could.

Wind chimes somewhere, out of place with the snow and mud and brittle air. I looked around but didn't see them. A lot of porches with a lot of things piled on them and I wondered what that meant about the neighborhood. Lower middle class? They could afford homes, but not trash removal? Maybe they were rented houses or maybe they were all in renovation and soon all of the porch debris would be back inside, displayed cozily among the new floors and paint and fireplace. 

I stepped in a puddle but it wasn't deep and I wasn't there long enough to soak my foot so I payed it no mind. Pull.

I couldn't remember the last time things had been going well, but I always kept walking.