Dog Walk

The sun is a fragment of circle, diffuse and greyed. From high-up it is a window into a room gloomy behind a flapping curtain . In the mind of the rook as it circles, I see the wind and I hear the future uncertain, I must eat or I will starve in the winter. I walk on a page between the lines where new snow has made the way less treacherous, a white page road dirtied by journeys very recently borne upon it. Ten minutes from home, the village church clock chimes ten and the distinct ring of the bells travels through the January sky to land damped on the ears, reminiscent of a clock locked in a forgotten room.

There is no one on the road but me.

On a parallel path the sound of a car travelling away from me is harsh incongruent and catalysing, no doubt a journey with a purpose. I shuffle my feet in the snow, and ask myself directly and harshly what I should do with my day, implying self condemnation. Directly consequent thoughts are hesitant; cleaning, baking, exercise and others are mumbled in an internaly rambling list, some items repeated, and all the while guilt admonishes me to do better. When it has gained a temporary hold on my recalcitrant nature a curse falls out and I tell myself that, for god’s sake, look for work, find an income, put some bloody effort in. That sort of thing.

The dog has run on ahead, there is no need to worry it; it is safe even when cars come by unless I shout at just the inappropriate moment causing it to change direction and run towards me. As I look down the road I see that there is someone walking toward me, some distance off. I’ve seen her before: a young woman walking away from the village. If it is her she’ll be in clothes ill matched to the surroundings, dressy, flamboyant, and glamorous even. We’ve never acknowledged each other before and as we step closer to each other I find myself wanting to greet her. Ten years ago I would have been smiling and walking toward her with a positive intent. Now I am not interested other than in the most basic sense and for that reason I make sure not to look her in the face. As we pass I notice that she is dressed quite sombrely and I forget that I am not to take her in. I glance up and see tears on her face. I do smile, weakly, and say hello. She reciprocates with out a smile and we pass continuing on, in our separate ways.

The rest of my walk is uneventful although for a minute or two the sun became a full circle of washed out light. No vehicles passed by and I didn’t have to call the dog under control until we were very close to home and before crossing the main road into our estate. I promised myself coffee and toast on my return and I am looking forward to it. The bells chime eleven now and their metallic resonance has regained its sharp timbre now I am much closer. I think that I’ll clean a bit and go to the gym. Maybe tomorrow I’ll see her again.