1. Going North
These faces have stories I wish to read
Behind me, a madman mumbles
Things I can’t fathom
Soon, he is a figment
And so am I, gone from the bus
I walk, blinded by the sun
But my hearing is keen, another person talking roundabout
With clothes unfit for her years
2. Only The Beginning
Two hours and I have come full circle
Resorting to manual transportation, to indulge in the beautiful day
The day feels impeccable, almost cinematic
A result of adolescent impulse
Cars whizz, trees sway, and the atmosphere is symphonic
So I find a tree to blind the sun, and enjoy the music
3. Looking For a Bus
I have begun to perspire and I am winded as I have finished walking up this steep, curved hill. The sun has continued its assault on my vision. I sit here pondering my route to my next safe area; as I am doing this, I am making the greatest attempt to not look suspect, as my height and skin tone may eventually put me at a disadvantage. So I must remain vigilant, yet not paranoid. Time sure drags when you’re on the lam.
4. Main Street
One of my objectives was to not spend a great deal of money. Alas, I am in a fast-food establishment spending money that could go toward the bus. No need to look at this as a negative, however. This allows me to experience this perfect day firsthand. A startling realization: there have been very few people in my midst as I have written this “vignette of a fugitive”. Before today, I never realized so much could be accomplished from a pedestrian perspective. I have surprisingly grown tired of this rest stop. I shall relieve myself and continue on my journey.
5. The Longest Leg
Damn, I thought I would never stop walking. I have managed to stop at 8th, 19th, 24th, 31st, and 45th streets, respectively. I am almost to my destination, wherever that may be. This trip, of sorts, has been more than being a fugitive; it’s about being free and living for a day. I have trekked through several spots where I was in danger of being recognized. But I was not. It seems that I have done a lot of contemplating about the past, things ranging from my sudden desire to have passion for something besides life to how I miss being a kid. Looking at this distorted glass, I see it as a visual representation of my life: distorted with a great deal of reflection. I see that, at this point in the journey, I have become more contemplative. Two more hours and the imaginary bounty which has fueled this expedition will have been rescinded. I have grown cold again due to lack of sunlight, the third such instance. It is time to carry on, or is it? I have no plan of action to get to my destination or do I? Maybe I’m just not aware of it. The wind is creeping up my shorts so I must carry on…
6. Doubts
For the first time, I am starting to have doubts about reaching my destination. My current fear is that I’ll be come so suspect, that I’ll be caught. Maybe I am doing too much thinking. Perhaps. All I am certain of is that I am almost there. But I fear by the time I get there, its purpose will be obsolete. Whatever may come of these next 105 minutes, I know this is a defining day in life. For one day, I have lived on my terms. Quite ironic I am by a school now. Hmm.
7. I Got Sad
It seems as if this has been the longest portion of the trip. My destination changed, just as I approached it. It was in clear view. This has been the most somber leg of the trek also. As I walked past the all-girls high school, a rush of melancholy energy ran through me. Most of this can be attributed to an old girlfriend, in which I have not the slightest of ideas why I felt the degree of sadness I felt. Throughout the day, there has been a lot of symbolism. The resting places have served as a literary depot, where I can chronicle my day’s experience as a truant-fugitive. As time is inching near to two o’clock, I sit back in amazement wondering how I conceived such a journey with the tremendous amount of spontaneity I did. As I sit, I am literally and figuratively a black dot on a white landscape. The blowing wind under a shaded park bench must be my signal to move on, and so I must. I have had a sufficient amount of time to express my observations and thoughts from my most recent stretch of walking. It is mind boggling how far I have walked since this morning. Moving along on the journey now…
8. The Fugitive Reflects
There comes a time in a truant’s day where he begins to reflect upon what would have been had he went to school; granted he is fortunate enough to reflect. Today, through this display of wit, endurance and sheer spontaneity, I have solidified my status as a master of the art of truancy. My feet are singing a tired song now; the song is long overdue, I must say. Home is getting closer. For some time now, I have the idea someone is looking for me. Here begins the march home.
9. Home
I have completed this time-consuming journey. Made it to every real truant’s destination: his home. Although my feet definitely aren’t, I am sad this had to end. This has been a day like no other. A city-spanning expedition on foot. The bounty has been rescinded. The end…
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