The cold brick behind your back

Standing behind a building, around the corner, in a space in the wall, hands on your knees, back against the wall, breathing hard, breathing in, trying to focus on the stars. No sound except your breathing. A square of light opens briefly in the parking lot as people enter, the sound of warmth, of laughter, of life being lived reached your ears for a moment and then the door shuts and you’re back in the darkness. Eyes closed. No more stars. The cold brick behind your back. You try to breathe. You pull off your heels, walk back home. Tenderly, tenderly on the tar. There’s nothing to think about. The road is a long long line to the end. You’re shivering but you don’t even know it.

You begin to walk.

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