I gazed directly at the edginess walking slowly toward me. It’s not that I was daydreaming or counting the three pennies in my jeans pocket, no I looked straight ahead devouring scenes of early spring propelled upon dusty work boots, and over the city sidewalks I maneuvered around heaved concrete slabs listening as they sighed a late winter death rattle.

The sun was shinning, but not so brightly that I couldn’t see I was walking toward a hot mess of confusion and it toward me. If anyone else saw the eminent collision they failed that warm spring day to offer warning. I continued directly toward the menacing roar of belching anxiety, it spewing forth   plumes like a Chinese dragon extolling cheap fireworks dancing on blind legs.

Some say I was compelled to walk toward and to embrace the gooey promise of quiet as if I was an inanimate pile of metal shavings unable to resist the junkyard magnet, but I know that’s not the way it happened. I walked, then ran into the embrace of desolation masquerading as relief from the internal turmoil crashing around inside my thoughts. I opened wide fervently grasping for that slim moment of peace that comes from waking on the edge of consciousness and helplessly falling to oblivion.

The fall showered a cool balm throughout, forgetfulness spiked its wondrous salve deep within wrapping around the fire ragging inside my soul smothering all feelings and releasing me from my sins.

Exhausted with regret and the punishing pain about to invade my frail self I dragged my body home. The release I had welcomed would soon turn to torturous self loathing, and even now was planning to froth itself upon me.

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