And So It Goes
March 29, 2010
The brown, murkey water splashed underneath the bridge as I walked over it. The sky was grey, the sun couldn’t even peak through small patches of open sky today, leaving the whole Earth cold and dark. Raindrops poured across my face, making a small stream down my cheek. Everyone just kept walking by, not minding the weather, not knowing what was happening.
I can’t shake the feeling.
I drove by his house yesterday, just like my boss had asked me to do. Your house looked strange, knowing what had happened there. It was in a quaint little neighborhood nestled up to a ghetto. Children were playing the streets, people stood outside their homes watering their lawns and unloading their cars from the long day behind them.
Your house didn’t stand out. It blended in perfectly, looked nothing out of the ordinary and I guess thats how you would’ve prefered it. I bet you never imagined seeing it all over the news. I don’t think you could picture your face flashing from screen to screen, your unique smile with the small underbite showing up on every news station here to Timbuktu.
When I talked to her on the phone, she sounded composed, and I’m sure that made you happy. But I couldn’t get the image of your house out of my mind. I’ve been thinking about it all day. Nothing looked different. Nothing changed. If I had not known better, I would have thought nothing was wrong. Actually, driving by it the first time I didn’t even recognize it.
Even ask she poured her heart out my only thought was about your small house, eerilysitting on a grassy knowl overlooking the neighborhood children. It is patiently waiting for you to come home, but I highly doubt you will. It’s not your fault. I understand. Though, I can feel you walking with me at night. I can see your smile as you read over the words written about you, flattered that people had such nice things to say about you. I can see you calling up your grandfather and giving him a hard time for being so embarrassing. I hope you’re doing well.
I wonder where you are now.