Footsteps in the rain

The rain thudded against my head as I squinted in the hazy orange glow of the street light. My bare feet felt numb from the cold puddles that littered the road. It felt like I had been walking for days. My mind weary from thinking. 

I moved the hood back from my eyes and looked up at the sky. There was nothing there except a star twinkling back at me. I stopped in my tracks, breathing in a lungful of the fresh night air.

I crossed the road and lit a cigarette. The rush of nicotine gave me the extra energy I needed. To me, I had no other purpose in my life apart from walking. Sure, I had a home and a fancy car. But there was something about walking that made me feel free.

Like I could put right all the wrongs in my life. As I sat down on a nearby wall. A taxi sped past. Filled with drunken revellers on their way home. To rest spinning heads in comfy beds. Being plagued only by the memories of the night before.

That was something I missed. Swirling memories of the antics of the night before. This thought bought a smile to my face, but the sound of a bird twittering bought me crashing back to reality.

I sighed readjusting my hood, so it just covered my eyes. I got up from the wall. I careful traced a path across the curb. Being really childish. Placing one foot in front of the other.

My mind drifted to thoughts long gone, coupled with dreams of walking on a warm sandy beach. Each grain of sand caressing my toes. These far off ideas bought tears to my eyes.

 I had no destination. I was simply walking. Maybe I was walking to find myself or to replace something that had long been missing. I threw my cigarette butt into a puddle before looking back at the rising sun.

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