Point

I think I confused my dogs today when I zipped up my black windbreaker and left the house. It was raining, first of all... and when I left, I left the front door wide open to the sick and twisted world... and it was roughly 7:30 on a Friday evening. I don't think my dogs were concerned for my sanity or my health... they were more worried about the fact that I was leaving the house wide open while I went for a walk, and wasn't bothering to take any of them with me. I watched their heads tilt quizzically to the side, as their wet noses pressed pitifully against the glass door.

I didn't bother to think, "I left the house open and no one is home." The click of my synthetically heeled boots resounded down the street, weaving together with the call of the mourning dove and the distant swish of cars on the main road in front of the cookie-cutter development where I exist, or rather, persist. This lego-block subdivision of the town named-for-dirt ("clay," the historians will tell you... as if that makes things better and more exciting) in which we all dart from desire to desire without realizing that we're not actually going anywhere. People dash from point A to point B and conversely, from point B to point A... leaving the people (like me) at point "anywhere other than A or B" to wonder what's so great about points A and B if no one ever wants to stay there.

When I was almost hit by the white sedan that came flying around the blind corner at the end of my street, (undoubtedly returning from points A or B, sans the answers he was looking for) I realized that I was still alive and still breathing and had somehow miraculously not seeped into the pavement and ended up in Australia or worse... history class. My life is like that... I would disappear from the face of the earth and end up, not in some exotic country... but in history class. Where I try to go, I end up somewhere different. At the moment, I was trying to go sit by the muddy waters of the disgusting lake two kids drowned in long ago... where I ended up was back in my living room, shivering and pumping adrenaline.

I took the spoon out of my pocket. I snapped it between my fingers and plastic shards scattered. The dogs lifted their heads from their places on the hardwood floor. The silence pressed against my ears and I stared through my house to the back windows. I couldn't see my backyard... for the trees, dripping raw and chilly water from their leafy tips, were in the way. ...I think I confused my dogs today when I zipped up my black windbreaker and left the house. My life is like that.