Skip to content

Walking at Night

August 15, 2012

I brought with me a set of headphones, and a what would now be an antiquated compact disk player. I remember when I got it, I made sure that It was an MP3 cd player. Reasonably new technology to the time, people had yet to realize the miracle of technology they were in for. At a greater than ten to one ratio of storing music. Good thing too. The path I walked to her house took me the better part of two hours. However, and most unfortunately, this device had a flaw. Perhaps its because I got it wet or because the batteries would die. I’m really not sure. But it would every so often stop playing and I would be left alone in on this very dark backwood road.

Part of the way the road was paved, but The scene was erie in the sense that it was the stereotypical kind of tree enclosed road you see in the movies, or somehow expect to see. Parts of it so dark that the only way you even know the trees are there is to peer up at the sky to see the light blue overcast of a full moon.

Mind you I have… never been to fond of the dark. Walking it, I must have been insane. But so long as the music kept playing, I was just well enough. I had issues with the various sounds I would hear. I knew full well the probability of being eaten by a bear was slim. Yet, it wasnt the bears that was the problem. I actually ran into very few animals. The most threatening of which was a reasonably bold skunk. He continued on his way after about 30 seconds of staring me down.

I know full well a skunk wouldn’t “kill me” or any thing of the sort; It was the dark. It was the inability to prepare for what I was about to see, in my… short sightedness. The irrational paranoid remnant from a once “not so useless” reaction: Inherited from our ancestors long since dead. Still I persisted. Forward, step by step.

Then I came upon a stray lamp post. It was about 50 feet away, and It was very bright, and you would think that it would have granted me some kind of comfort. However, it only succeeded in blinding me.

I was afraid of what might be behind it. Hidden in my blind spot, somehow thinking that something… whatever it could be; whether it be a person to mean me harm, or anything else that my science fiction riddled creative consciousness could invent. Something I might actually worry about.

Irrational, again I cursed myself for being so paranoid. But still, I blocked out the light with the palm of my hand. Then I peered into space behind, and could see nothing still. Not in the sense that nothing was there, but I simply couldn’t see anything.

Just then, I thought I saw something.

Scared the shit out of me.

I had no idea what exactly, but some part of me knew that I didn’t actually see something. It was still, somehow, terrifying.

This light was on my path, and I had to go through to get to where I needed to go… I started to turn around. Then I changed my mind.

“Lets see just what it is.”

Daring myself every step of the way.

Almost enraged.

Forcing through it.

What could it be?

What could I see?

What could I possibly be so afraid of?

Every scenario rushed through my head, and just as quickly, counter thoughts in dealing with it.

The world seemed to shrink, certainly my path seemed to. Because, before I knew it… I was emerging from the other side of the bright flood-street light… and it was a flag.

It was the colors of the local high school.

How ironic that I would seek to find the most horrible things in the darkness which is where I stand now.

The edge of the unknown, now known.

To Discover, as in to “dis-cover” as in to UN-cover… a symbol, placed for whatever intent…

of knowledge.

It is a reminder that behind every unopened door, the unknown contains for us: everything we can imagine and nothing we can see.

There are some people that choose to worship those that live behind these closed doors.

Then there are others that choose to step through to meet them.

Advertisements

From → Uncategorized

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: