So I Walk

By: Carley Eschliman

The light tapping of rain, loud at first, but slowly becoming weaker and weaker, grabs me; takes hold. I open the squeaky front door and peek a single foot outside. The vivid green grass begs for me to be a companion while it slowly moves in the ever-slightest of winds. So I walk...

I can still feel a slight mist from the heavy rains of before. The vapor kisses my cheeks; makes them blush from the attention. I am careful not to tread on any cracks in the sidewalk, fearing my mother’s health. Not in any rush, I glance about, reminiscing about the days of youth spent entirely under this same sun. So I walk...

Memories of before cloud my sight almost like ghosts, they form their jovial faces out of the collection of moist particles residing in the air. I see my brother and me, climbing up the old tree, jumping, laughing, climbing, unaware that soon these actions would only be a memory. So I walk...

I hear the calling of a lone bird, chipper and bright. I am unsure of what its cries mean, but it gives me a sense of comfort. My memories rush back of my neighbors and I having competitions of who could do the most realistic bird cry. I never won. The noises of these creatures were far too sophisticated for a mere mortal like me to replicate. So I walk...

Easily sidetracked, I bend down to sniff a flower in the beds of the nearby park. The scent of dew and earth fill my nostrils. How long had it been since I had taken the time to do such a simple act? Such a small thing, the smelling of a flower... So I walk...

I arrive at my castle of long ago. The pebbles under my feet rub together, mimicking the crickets resounding from the open field in the distance. When was I last here to rule over my kingdom, sit on my throne? The plastic and metal mesh together to create the perfect environment for any childhood fantasy, whether it Fish Out of Water or Lava Monsters. Oh, how I miss the playground. So I walk...

My shoes sink into the mud behind the rusted backstop of the weedy kickball field. I can picture the sweltering days of summer that forced our group to find refuge within the comforting arms of the trees. Their leaves, seemingly unaffected by the heat, became umbrellas of sweet relief. I spy a large spider web between two of the trees, homage to how long it had been since my friends and I had ventured off the path. So I walk...

As I venture throughout my neighborhood I remember the sweet days of childhood. I reminisce about the memories that I have made over the years, and I see how those activities shaped who I am today. Maybe I should do this more often. So I walk.