I Went for a Walk

I went for a walk.

I walked down the old street, amazed at how trees I had never noticed before had grown so incredibly tall.

I remember that house. I remember this whole street. It used to be shiny houses and green grass and tiny sticks for trees. Look how dirty and faded and old the houses have become. Look at the overgrown bushes and giant trees. My God, even the bricks on the houses look old somehow.

Everyone needs new roofs. Everyone needs to trim their damn bushes. Everyone has grown old and moved away, leaving their homes to younger people to buy. But these younger people, they don't have nearly as much money as the previous generation once did. Our nation's leaders have betrayed us, betrayed this land, sold the future for some magic beans. But that's a rant for another day.

I walked for an hour and a half. It was still light when I started. I could see the Big Dipper when I finished.

Funny how I can't find the constellations at my house, but when I come here I can find everything, right where it should be, just like before.

And you know, now I know what My Dad had been trying to tell me about there being so many more stars, but you can't see them here because of all the lights. Oh, you can see the stars. It's not so bright that you can't see them at all. But you don't realize how much the light is interfering with your view until you get out into the country and see what the night sky really looks like. So now I know.

I remember this street. I remember when all these houses were being built. I remember when they sparkled and there were no trees at all. I remember all the couples moving in and having kids. And now look at it. It's just an old street. The young couples are long gone. I'll bet not a single original owner still lives here anymore. And look at these trees, all grown up.

What is with the dude with the five sprinklers all going at once? His front yard must be no bigger than an eighth of an acre. Not even that, really. He must really like to run the water. That's ridiculous. His driveway and the sidewalk are sparkling clean. His yard is a swamp. Maybe he's trying to water his house in the hopes that it will grow a second story?

I hadn't planned on walking over here. But the mood just took me. Man, this hill is steep. I used to ride my bike up this damn thing. I used to jog up this. How in the hell did I ever do that? I can barely walk it. Listen to that motorcycle trying to drive up it. Holy shit, dude, if you don't shift into a lower gear you're going to stall.

Now there's a nice house. These must have been built later and I just didn't remember. That monster is impressive. All of these over here are impressive. I guess when you build up on the hilltops you pay more and expect to get more? These are some serious houses.

Three people are coming towards me. I can hear them talking. It sounds like women. That's awesome. I'm covered in sweat from climbing these hills. I look and smell like ass. Perfect time for me to meet three women in the dark night coming head-on.

Oh, they look like high school girls. Kinda hot, too. Well, hot enough, I guess. I mean, how ugly can you be at that age? You have no fat except where you want to have fat, and nothing is sagging or falling or fading or falling out. And it doesn't hurt that their clothes are skin tight, like they sprayed them on with an aerosol can. Obviously they are out crusing to be seen by boys in cars. I don't meet that qualification, so I think I'll just head on up this gigantic hill.

I can't believe we used to run sprint after sprint up this hill, with coach holding a stopwatch and giving us a few seconds rest before we had to go again. We'd loop down the side street, up most of the giant murderous bitch of a hill I'm on now, and then back around down Hickory Hill and down the side street to this monsterous hill again. How did we not drop dead from this? I can't even imagine being able to run all the way up this hill without stopping. I need a damn ladder to get up this thing.

I remember coming here to see Pam Salter. She didn't like me at all. And then I discovered Leslie Cothran and learned the skill of spinning tires and revving engines in front of girls' houses, as if that ever got a man a date before. But what did I know? I can't believe I never even noticed her back when I played basketball with her big brother and her dad was our coach. Of course, I was like 8 years old, so I guess she was 7. That probably had something to do with it. She sure did grow up, though.

There's Jamie's house. Crazy fucker went straight from his job at Super Shops to a bank, pulled out a gun, and robbed it. Then he drove straight home, threw the gun in the front yard and just sat down in his living room with the bag of money. He didn't even wear a mask. His shirt said "Super Shops" on the front, and "Jamie" on the back. It took them about 30 minutes to figure out who it was and arrest him. I swear it seemed as if he wanted to go to prison. That was insane. I wonder where he is now?

It's weird being here. I remember all of this. But it was all so much brighter and shinier back then. Now it all just looks ... I don't know ... like some faded memory. I don't belong here. None of the people I remember living in these houses are here anymore. And even if they were I wouldn't recognize them. And they wouldn't recognize me.

Hey, I know you. Holy shit, I haven't seen you in forever!

And now for something really old ....

Dig the hair

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