uncanny

I would have given anything to get out of there, but when they gave me a chance to exit … when they left the door wide open … I just stood there in disbelief. And then I told them how much I liked it there and I was sorry if I had given them the wrong impression. And I really truly wanted to stay. I wanted to stay more than I could say. And eventually they were convinced. And they opened the door for me and allowed me to retreat in to my little corner, where I began to devise a new strategy to escape. This time for good. The first non-escape was just testing the waters, without intending to disturb them. The waters, that is.

And now, I can hear the sky. I can feel the sky. I can see fragments of sky through the trees. And I stretch out to it, but I can’t touch it. I can feel it, but I can’t touch it. It’s uncanny.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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