Thursday, September 29, 2011

NEVER ENDING WALK

I walk along the street kicking rocks and trampling would chips with my cold feet as the day has yet to be warm, I dodge a couple of tall flowers by ducking and weaving in and out of their twisted stems. I lean my head back as far as my spine would allow and look at the sky as it moves soundlessly through the air, after awhile of this I turn to throwing rocks in the river pretending I am a major league baseball pitcher who just tossed a fast ball, ending up running down the street, through alleys, up stairs, past big trucks sprinting for the sheer joy of it. As I come to a slow I pass an old broken car and fence with fallen peace's of it scattered all over the ground, I spot a puddle and deiced that the only way for me to be satisfied with the puddle even being there is if I plopped rocks and sticks in it making splashes of cold water fly through the air and hit the ground like bombs. At first it seemed as though I would never grow tired of this game but then I remembered that I wasn't two anymore and moved along listlessly looking for something to do.
Elmo

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