you and your sidewalks

you're walking by a fire hydrant, but it isn't a fire hydrant. what else could this actually be? is there a reason for something, small and cylindrical in nature, to be stuck on the street. it won't budge. in fact, your foot is hurting severely now. kicking that thing was a bad idea.

with the slight limp you have acquired, you wince your way further, past stains and signs and the ordinary sort of litter found in big cities. you're drawn now, caught just barely by a feeling. not one you can explain. your ears aren't tingling, or searching for a far-off sound. your eyes focus not on a destination but on the idea of finding this new goal. you have no idea what it might be. still it draws you. no one is baking fresh rolls to entice your overdeveloped sense of smell. you can almost feel a breeze on your skin, though you are wearing a thick coat. something is almost there, dancing out of reach. the subtlest of indications. a call not truly felt, but barely perceived.